This was my entry for the Kurtbastian bigbang 2012/2013; if you haven't checked out the bigbang, you should, because there are plenty of amazing fics going up! To my Klaine readers, I'm sorry for this one - I will return to Klaine, I promise. But for now, I hope you enjoy this story for what it is. :) Because this story was written for the bigbang, there is also art to go with it: the super lovely and talented jatti-tatti/snownymph drew a scene from this chapter, and you can find it linked in my profile.
This story is fully written in five parts, and I should be posting a chapter at a minimum of every few days as I find the energy and focus to edit them. The warnings for this story include: m/m sex (not graphic), frequent alcohol use and discussion of suicide (David Karofsky's and a line or two about a stranger's).
Kurt was just about to leave Callbacks, still sober, still feeling more than a little like a third wheel to Rachel and Brody, when someone fell squarely into his lap.
Well, not so squarely. The man fell sideways onto Kurt's legs, hitting his head against the edge of table Kurt was sitting at with an audible thud. Kurt squawked and flung himself and his chair backwards, unseating his apparent assailant who dropped heavily to the floor, all loose limbs, crashing his back into the table as well. The table rocked dangerously, and Kurt futilely grabbed at empty glasses skidding across its surface. He winced when one of them toppled off the other side and shattered, the sound barely registering in the din of the bar. Kurt's first thought was thank God it's not a karaoke night, followed quickly by a flush of anger.
He was ready to give whatever drunken idiot had assaulted him a proper bitching out, (because, God, he'd barely been here four months and the edge of an embattled New Yorker was already creeping into his temper) when he caught sight of the man's face and completely lost his train of thought.
Sebastian Smythe, however, was clearly not suffering the same mute surprise. "Oh hey, Kurt," he said, as if this were the Lima Bean and not a NYADA haunt in New York. He grinned up at Kurt, quick and sharp. "More boy clothes today! I feel like I should congratulate you."
Kurt, hackles already raised, felt himself stiffen in an all-too-familiar manner. Sebastian may have apologised and played nice after David's suicide attempt, which had somehow shocked him out of the insane warpath he'd been on, but clearly a year was enough for him to forget. "Sebastian," he said coolly, getting to his feet so he could tower over the boy still sitting on the floor. "What a surprise. Not the embarrassing level of intoxication, of course, but I wasn't aware this was a NYU hangout. Or have you already slept your way through its entire population desperate enough to have you? I can't imagine seven people would take you very long."
"Please," Sebastian drawled, "anyone at NYU would murder for five minutes with me. Unfortunately for them, they just can't compete with guys who have two hours of dance class a day." As if to prove a point, he turned to Brody, who had come to stand with Rachel beside Kurt, eyes sliding over Brody's broad shoulders and down his body with a smirk.
"I'm straight, but thanks," Brody said with an easy grin. "You know him, Kurt?"
"Regrettably."
"Hey, play nice." Sebastian hauled himself back to his feet. "We're all big gay best buddies now, remember?"
"I do. You seemed to have forgotten, though," Kurt said dryly, picking up his coat from the back of his chair.
"I'm trying. It's tough." Sebastian turned as his name was shouted - Kurt could see two tall, lean figures, possibly in Brody's year, beckoning by the door. Sebastian wobbled slightly as he turned to them, and one of the waiting NYADA boys caught Kurt's eye. Saying something to his companion, he worked his way over and stepped in between Sebastian and Kurt.
"Seb, we're moving on before you get us kicked out," he said, gesturing to the shattered glass with amusement. "But you seem to have made a friend."
"Kurt's another little, lost gay from Cowtown, Ohio." Sebastian waved a hand distractedly, eyeing off the Callbacks staff member who was approaching, dustpan in hand and looking less than impressed.
Just as Kurt was about to snark that the stranger should move Sebastian on sooner rather than later, to save him from both the staff and Kurt himself, the stranger turned to him. "I'm Charlie. Hi," he said, his voice slightly gravelly. "We're going to Heat. You should come."
Kurt blinked for a moment, brain struggling to get beyond that fact that, hello, Charlie was the definition of tall, dark and handsome. Slightly behind him, Kurt could feel Rachel shift uneasily, and Brody - the one boy Rachel had ever dated with a shred of tact - whispered to her, "Relax, Rach; Charlie's cool. Kurt will be fine." Kurt, however, wasn't so sure. Going off with two strangers and, even worse, a drunk Sebastian Smythe, to a gay nightclub? Thanks, but no thanks.
"Thank you very much for the offer, Charlie, but I think I should go home with my friends," Kurt replied, a little breathlessly.
Rachel, however, was now looking between Charlie and Kurt with a calculating expression, which never boded well. She burst out with, "Oh no, Kurt, you should definitely go, celebrate some more! Brody and I will be just fine."
"Celebrate?" Charlie asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"Kurt is an intern at Vogue, and today his boss promoted him to a paid role," Rachel said, "and he hasn't celebrated enough. So you should really go, Kurt."
Sebastian, too, was wearing a calculating expression (well, as calculating as it could be with an alcohol haze still clouding his eyes) as he looked from Charlie and then almost appraisingly over the length of Kurt. Before Kurt could interject with another decline, he said, "Come on, Kurt. A step up from Scandals, I promise." He paused, before adding, "Not that you know that there was any step up to be had, I'm assuming."
That was a direct challenge if Kurt had ever heard one, and really, screw his competitive nature and screw Sebastian, because there was no way Kurt couldn't fight back. And Sebastian clearly knew that, so Kurt was playing right into whatever plan the boy had.
But if there was one thing Kurt Hummel was superb at doing, it was acting like he always had the upper hand, even when he was scrabbling. Lifting his chin, he said, "Just the mention of Vogue gets me into places you're still dreaming of, Sebastian." He squeezed Rachel's hand quick and firm and followed Charlie out into the night.
The few blocks to Heat passed in relative silence, all four men striding quickly in the bitter January air. As they approached the short queue and bouncer at the front of the club, though, Kurt leant in a little closer to Sebastian to mutter, "Exactly how do you plan to get us in? Neither of us are twenty one, and you're already drunk."
Sebastian smirked and just nodded in front of him, where Charlie and the other NYADA boy - Weston, Kurt thought his name was - were walking. "Just watch."
The four of them got into the queue as it slowly inched to the front door. As they reached the bouncer, Charlie stepped up, grabbing the burly guy's hand and slapping his back cheerfully. "Neil, my man!" Charlie said, beckoning the other three to come a little closer. "How are you doing? How's Greg?" After a short conversation, Neil waved all four of them in without a single ID checked.
As they checked their coats and paid cover, Kurt raised his eyebrow. Sebastian eventually explained, "Neil has been dating Charlie's cousin for, like, forever. He never asks questions."
Once inside, Charlie and Sebastian made a beeline for the bar. Charlie leaned over the sticky counter, ordering something with the bartender that Kurt couldn't hear; moments later he and Sebastian were standing in front of him, holding two precariously filled shot glasses each. Sebastian handed off his second one to Weston, while Charlie held his in front of Kurt, before stepping in close to half-shout in Kurt's ear over the thudding music. "First round's on me, to help you celebrate."
Kurt lifted the shot glass to his eye. In the black-blue lighting of the club, it appeared almost aqua, and Kurt had to ask, "What is it?"
Charlie and Sebastian both laughed, and Kurt flushed. "Absinthe," Charlie said. "Pretty shit quality absinthe, but if you shot this one I promise everything will taste good for the rest of the night."
"Or would you like another Shirley Temple?" Sebastian asked. "You'd have to order it yourself, since I'm not sure my dignity can handle ordering a second one for you in this lifetime."
Seriously, screw Sebastian and his challenges.
"I once got drunk off rubbing alcohol in high school," Kurt snapped, deliberately ignoring, even in his own head, the events with Ms Pillsbury that had followed. "I think I can handle it."
Charlie smiled, lifting his hand to Kurt's chin. "That's the spirit," he said, stroking his thumb over Kurt's lower lip for a mere half a second before gently pulling Kurt's mouth open slightly. "Just make sure you open wide for this one. Somepeople I've met have a tendency to splutter the first time otherwise." His smile split into a sharp smirk as he glanced over at Sebastian.
Sebastian wordlessly raised the glass in his hand, tilted his head back, and poured the shot down his throat with barely a discernible swallow, his face not changing for so much as a second. "Come on then." He set his glass on a high table and leaned against it, fixing his eyes on Kurt. "Be careful. I can't imagine absinthe is good for your clothes, and I wouldn't want you to ruin one of the two boy outfits you own."
"On three?" Weston asked. A quick countdown and then -
Kurt threw his head back and dropped his jaw, the shot glass clacking against his bottom teeth as the alcohol burned over his tongue and ignited the back of his throat. He inhaled sharply, putting the glass down maybe a little too hard on the table next to Sebastian's. He heard a soft chuckle near his ear as the absinthe slid through, and either from the mocking or the alcohol a hot tingle rushed down through his torso and into his fingers.
Kurt was startled to find that it wasn't a horrible sensation. "Again, or shall we dance?"
Vodka, then whiskey, then a shot called Quick Fuck that even after three others, Kurt never wanted to repeat in his life. After four rounds, he was feeling pretty happy and giggly and his fingers were kind of feeling like they'd lost a fair bit of sensation, so when Charlie grabbed him and suggested the four of them go out and dance, he was more than happy to be led out to the pit of dancers.
Kurt's main expectations of what a gay nightclub should look like, he was not ashamed to admit (at least not in his current state), were mainly formed by seasons of watching people dance at Babylon on Queer as Folk. So were his main lessons on the kind of dancing appropriate for a club. His opinions were, at the same time, sort of true and definitely not. There were no go-go dancers here, for starters, and the dance floor was slightly smaller than the huge, writhing mass of mostly shirtless men that Queer as Folk had promised. And more shirts might not necessarily be a bad thing, because the average level of attractiveness here was not quite model gorgeous. Better than Ohio, though, by a long shot. And the atmosphere was still dark, the music still heavy and seductive. And as Sebastian had promised, it was all so much better than Scandals.
Kurt stopped for a moment on the edge of the few stairs down into the pit and swayed, touching a hand to his temple and giggling slightly. "Kurt?" Kurt looked sideways to see Sebastian's face tilted down towards him, eyes kind. That was weird. His eyes shouldn't be kind. But, oh, if Kurt was heading for tipsy and Sebastian had already been drunk enough to crash into Kurt before they even did those shots, then... "Kurt?"
Kurt blinked at Sebastian. "Yeah?"
"Are you okay? We did those shots pretty fast, even by our standards."
"I'm fine. Just..." Kurt was getting dizzy and Sebastian's eyes were still kind and that was so weird and before he knew it he was blurting out, "I've never danced like this before."
Sebastian was clearly fighting back laughter as he replied, "I figured."
Kurt huffed. "Well, fuck you."
"Wow, swearing from Kurt Hummel. I didn't know your hair could be let down that far."
Kurt made to go back to the bar, hoping that a fifth shot might loosen him up enough that he could ignore even Sebastian and just dance. Charlie was casting him an occasional glance as he moved ever closer to Weston, and Kurt wanted the courage to get closer himself sooner rather than later. Sebastian grabbed him by the waist and said, "Oh no you don't. You should dance off at least one of those shots before you get another. Even you can play follow the leader. Just don't shimmy, because that shit is weird, and follow Weston and Charlie's lead."
Kurt stalked down the stairs, and Charlie's mouth folded up slightly in welcome as he cast his arm loosely over Kurt's shoulders. His hips moved closer, Weston moved in on the other side, and Kurt tentatively rocked his body. Wedged between the two boys, it was easy just to follow the push and pull of their own bodies, submitting easily to it. He was confident enough in the fluidity of his hips, and so to just follow the lead of two gorgeous, skilled dancers? He wasn't even overly indignant when Weston cheekily leaned closer and popped open the first few buttons of Kurt's shirt. He had a vague feeling that that probably crossed a line for sober Kurt, but he was feeling too good to care.
Sebastian snuck up behind Charlie, pressing himself to the NYADA boy's back and easily joining Charlie's rhythmic motions. Sebastian spoke, just loud enough that Kurt could hear - wow, Kurt was even closer now, almost chest-to-chest with Charlie, and he had no idea when that had happened - asking, "Any promising sightings?"
Charlie twisted his head round to nip at Sebastian's jaw, saying, "What, the three boys you have here aren't enough for you?"
"If I fuck you or Weston one more time the number of repeats is getting into dangerous territory."
"What about both of us at the same time?" Charlie shot back.
Weston ground into Kurt and Charlie's sides, clearly not protesting the idea.
"Still dangerous, babe. Even with two of you it could be familiar enough to be boring." The way Sebastian's hand was beginning to slide down Charlie's chest belied his indifferent tone.
"How about Kurt? Or did you already have your fun in Ohio?"
Sebastian lifted his head from where he had been gently biting at Charlie's earlobe. Kurt wondered for a brief moment what it meant that it was all teeth between these two - but only briefly, because then Sebastian's eyes were locked onto Kurt's over Charlie's shoulder, as hot and dark as the man pressed between their bodies, but with a distinct wicked glint.
"You two can get Kurt ready for me."
And with that, Sebastian was gone, cutting through the crowd even here in New York, bending to press that mouth to a stranger's ear, and whatever words came out were enough, because seconds later they were pressed together.
"I'm almost ready for another couple of drinks. How about you?" Charlie asked. Kurt nodded, letting himself follow close behind Charlie and Weston back to the bar. The first thing Charlie handed to him was some kind of mixed drink, which Kurt used to help him cool down and catch his breath, and then Charlie was pulling him right up against the bar with the most devilish grin Kurt had ever seen on a man, period.
"You're up for a challenge, babe?"
Kurt fixed him with a look. "Always."
Charlie chuckled, seeming almost delighted, and then said, "Okay, then. But I am warning you on this one, Mr Rubbing Alcohol. It doesn't get much stronger than this."
As the bartender approached with three shot glasses and a bottle of some kind of spirit, Charlie quickly advised, "Start drinking as soon as it's poured, or it'll evaporate. And stick close!"
The bartender started with Weston, pouring the shot. He hadn't even lifted the bottle before Weston grabbed the glass, slamming down the fluid it contained with a choke. He dropped his forehead onto the bar as soon as he was done. Charlie followed soon after, and then the bartender - cute, looking not much older than Kurt himself - put a glass in front of Kurt, asked, "Ready?" and started pouring.
Following the leads of Weston and Charlie, and remembering the absinthe, Kurt dropped his jaw and threw back the shot even before the splashes had settled in the glass, and promptly spluttered out what very little of it didn't go straight down his throat. He'd thought he was prepared, seeing Weston and Charlie's reactions, but nothing could have prepared him for the spasm of his throat, the almost-pain that was searing through him. This was far from the harsh pleasure of the absinthe.
The alcohol seemed to hit him almost as fast as the choke had, and he clutched half at the bar, half at Charlie. "I don't even want to know what that was!" he shouted, and Charlie slapped his back.
"Exactly! Now let's go dance again!"
So they pulled each other right into the middle of the swirl of the dance floor, grinding against each other shamelessly. The last drink had acted as a leveller - despite all having been different levels of drunk before, now all of them were lost in the wild atmosphere. When Charlie pulled him closer than ever, Kurt had no complaints, and when he finally asked, "Are you single?" all Kurt could do was nod.
Charlie's mouth was on his, and Weston was grinding on his ass, and time seemed to twist around him. The dizzy shifting of the alcohol, the friction of a tongue against his own - Charlie's, Weston's, it didn't matter - the tangible thud of the music and the feeling of so many men around him was... indescribable. Kurt could stay here forever, half-aroused and feeling so alive to every sensation that his ears and eyes and skin could provide him. Weston disappeared into someone else's arms, and he had just opened his mouth wider to Charlie, feeling a hand slide down to his ass, their half-hardness becoming slowly more evident through the haze, when he heard his name.
Charlie spun him so he was pressed against Kurt's back, sliding a hand up into Kurt's hair to pull his head back, letting his head rest against Charlie's shoulder and exposing Kurt's throat. "What's up, Sebastian?" They never stopped dancing.
"You guys seem to be having more fun than when I saw you last."
"We sure are." Charlie smacked a hot, open-mouthed kiss under Kurt's ear. Kurt barely noticed it, eyes mostly closed and the world starting to fuzz even more, everything falling out of focus except the feel of Charlie's body, the sound of the music and the shout of Charlie and Sebastian's voices.
"What'd you give him to drink? He wasn't this gone before."
"Spirytus."
"Holy shit. And he swallowed it?" Sebastian's tone was incredulous.
"Hell yes. Kurt and I are going to get on just fine, I think."
"No, no. I should take him home. I don't think he's been this drunk in New York."
"Aw, Seb, I think I can 'take him home' just as well you can." Kurt felt the hand in his hair tighten, the mouth press back to that spot under his ear as he kept moving with the ever-rocking body behind him. "Plus, you're almost as drunk as him."
"Not tonight. Another time, you're more than welcome to take him home."
Kurt wasn't entirely sure about everything going on, but when he felt hands trying to pull him away from the heat of Charlie's body, he whimpered and clung tighter, grinding back harder against Charlie again. "Looks like he doesn't want to leave, Sebby."
Sebastian pressed in closer, pressing his forehead to the side of Kurt's, and shouting directly into his ear. "Kurt! We need to go!" Kurt whined and shook his head, which was all it took to unsteady Sebastian, who once again toppled into Kurt, knocking both him and Charlie slightly sideways. Sebastian laughed and wrapped his arms around both of them, trying to right them.
"Sebastian, man, you're hammered. I don't think you could even get yourself home," Charlie said, laughing too.
"We'll be fine. As soon as Kurt comes with me. Which he will, even if I'm drunk as fuck."
There were hands on Kurt trying to pull him away again. He kept resisting, even as the world got fuzzier still. He draped more of himself over Charlie, not sure if it was drunkenness or tiredness starting to weigh him down more.
"Come on Kurt, if nothing else, I owe you this one." The voices stopped for a moment, and Kurt continued dancing, finding it so easy just to let Charlie's hips be the guide for his, feeling Charlie's hands start to slide over him again. And then Sebastian let out a sharp laugh. "Hey, Charlie, remember how I got Weston off you that first time?"
Charlie's arms tightened around Kurt. "No way. That was a fluke."
"Two rounds next time says I can make it happen again."
Charlie's mouth was on Kurt's neck again briefly, and oh god, it felt so good that Kurt couldn't help if his movements became jerkier, because it only matched the energy shooting out from that spot. "You're on," Charlie then said, his voice still close to Kurt's ear.
Sebastian said something that Kurt couldn't quite hear, but he thought he caught something like "best blackmail material" before someone kissed him hard, starting to wrap hands under his arms and onto his shoulder blades. All to soon the kiss slid to the corner of his lips, before mouthing across his cheek and up his jaw, finding the other spot under his ear just like the one Charlie had been kissing, but this time the mouth sucked. Kurt audibly whined, a complete slave to the sensations, and jerked his hips up; he followed easily when the arms tugged him away from Charlie and into the other body.
"Hey Kurt, you want to come home with me?" The voice was Sebastian's, and Kurt, struggling to approach lucidity, took a moment to think about it. And of all the options available to him, going home with Sebastian oddly seemed the best right now. The safest? a voice in his mind echoed at him. He nodded.
Charlie took it with good grace, leaning back up against Kurt to say bluntly, but with a friendly tease in his voice, "You're hot, Kurt. We'll do this again." He then turned to Sebastian and asked, "What happened to the blonde that you were all over?"
"Was a little too insistent he was a top only. I got bored. You might enjoy the challenge, though."
Kurt cracked his eyes open to see Charlie casting a considering eye over the crowd. Charlie said, "You know, I think you're right." He pinched at Sebastian's nipple and the taller boy jolted with surprise. "See you guys around." And then he disappeared.
"You almost ready to go home, Kurt?" The kindness was back in Sebastian's eyes, even with the smirk twisting his lips, and it was as unnerving as ever.
"I think so," Kurt replied. He let Sebastian drag him up to the bar, idly curious, as Sebastian said something and held up three fingers. He then watched with vague amusement as Sebastian shot all three glasses of the clear liquid put in front of him.
"What was that for?" Kurt asked as Sebastian pushed him towards the door.
"If I'm going to be looking after you tonight I need for- for- fortification."
Kurt's protests were cut off when he almost fell flat on his face descending the stairs out of Heat.
The walk to the subway was brief but seemed to have a sobering effect on Kurt; his vision cleared, the world stopped swirling quite as much, and the almost full-body tingle receded back into his lips and hands. If his unsteady path was any indication he was still definitely drunk, but not as completely lost to the alcohol and the surroundings as he had been before. Sebastian, however, probably hadn't needed that third shot. By the time they sat on a bench to wait for the subway, it was dubious as to which one was doing more holding up and guiding.
"Uh, Sebastian, where are we going?"
Sebastian squinted at Kurt, swaying slightly in his seat.
"You live with Rachel, don't you?"
Kurt nodded and almost toppled off the bench himself. Okay. Definitely still drunk.
"My place, then. In, like, eight stops. Just don't let me fall asleep or hit my head or something and we'll be fine."
"Okay." Kurt flopped his head against the brick wall behind him with a slight thud. "I don't think I'd agree to that normally." Each word was a slight struggle, his tongue thick. "I think I'm really drunk."
Sebastian laughed. It seemed like all he ever did was laugh at Kurt. "Yeah, Hummel, you really are. So am I."
"Why did I even come with you tonight? I don't remember."
"Because Charlie wanted you to come. And because Berry is clearly trying to get you laid."
"Yeah. Ever since she left Finn for Brody and Blaine and I broke up she's been trying to get me to 'Make the most of your first year in New York, Kurt. Just try going out with one of the boys from NYADA, Kurt.'" Kurt's voice was a poor imitation of Rachel's. "I'm pretty sure she's just trying to stop me complaining about the cost of ear plugs."
Sebastian laughed even harder, and god, Kurt hadn't meant to share that. Why was he talking so much? This was almost worse than in the club - not able to control himself but now fully aware of ridiculous he was being instead of just lost to it all.
"Well, you did at least try a NYADA boy tonight."
"His mouth. I don't think that was Rachel had in mind." And then they both giggled because they were so, so drunk.
The subway was a hairy mix of trying to stop each other falling with each jolt of movement, grabbing onto poles, and laughter at it all. If this is what being drunk could really be like, then maybe Kurt was okay with it. Eventually Sebastian said, "Oh shit, this is our stop!" and they tumbled off, into the street and to Sebastian's apartment, the cold somehow not feeling as bitter as it had been before Kurt had started the night, despite the later hour.
Sebastian's apartment was dark but warm. "You can afford to keep the heating on when you're not here?" Kurt asked incredulously.
Sebastian shrugged. "Dad can," he said, and pushed Kurt down onto a black leather couch, flicking on a lamp. Kurt snuggled shamelessly into the arm of the couch, barely bothering to look around the apartment, the floppy tiredness he had felt briefly with Charlie hitting him full force now he was somewhere dark and warm. But the head spinning was starting to not feel quite as nice as before and his chest was starting to hurt so there was no way he was actually falling asleep yet.
Sebastian seemed to be struggling with judging the force of gravity as he swung around a narrow countertop into what looked like the kitchen, yanking the door to a fridge open and staggering slightly as the door swung with him still holding on. He grabbed two water bottles and then came back to Kurt, throwing himself onto the couch and then a bottle at Kurt.
"Drink. Slowly, because if you throw up on my stuff I will kill you. But drink."
Kurt did, just a little bit, and then groaned. "I'm starting to not feel so great now."
"Then just, just stay awake long enough to drink all that water and it'll pass." Sebastian, Kurt noted, was struggling just as much as Kurt was - he was slurring and stuttering, and as Sebastian tipped his water bottle up rivulets sprouted either side of his mouth, streaming down his arched-back neck.
"But I'm so tired." As if to prove his point, Kurt nuzzled slightly into the couch.
"So, I don't know, talk to me or something. But drink that fucking water. Trust me."
With a heaving sigh, Kurt started to make idle chatter, asking about Sebastian's time at NYU so far, explaining a little about Vogue and his plans to re-apply for NYADA. Slowly the water in their bottles disappeared and Kurt began to feel a little more sober, though what he lost in alcohol seemed to be being replaced with that weird kind of honesty that only comes from talking with people, even people you don't usually like, into the early hours of the morning.
Eventually Sebastian fixed Kurt with a look, calm in the dark and the drunk and the peaceful late-earliness, and asked, "Why did you and Blaine break up?"
Kurt yawned and said, "That's such a long story. Can I tell it in the morning?"
Sebastian smiled gently and said, "Neither of us are remembering any of this in the morning. I don't feel it like I did before but we are both still smashed."
Kurt stood up and the room swung alarmingly and whoa, Sebastian might be right. "Well, we'll remind ourselves. We'll... write a reminder or something." Spying some pens on the kitchen bench, Kurt grabbed a permanent marker and dropped back onto the couch, much closer to Sebastian than before. He grabbed the other boy's forearm before he could protest and wrote, slowly and carefully but somehow still wonky, You are having breakfast with Kurt.
Sebastian raised his forearm right up to his eyes and squinted, before shaking his head. "I can't even read that. I'll try again later." He turned to Kurt and said, "My turn."
Kurt shook his head and backed away quickly, saying, "You are not writing on my skin with that."
Sebastian splayed himself against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. "I should take that marker and draw dicks on your face in your sleep. But I just don't have the energy."
"Plus, it doesn't fit with your new, good-boy persona."
Sebastian huffed a half-laugh. "None of this does, Hummel. I should be tearing you apart but instead you're in my apartment because Charlie wanted you to come with us and then got you so drunk I couldn't leave you alone. And now we've been talking for hours. My life is so fucking weird now."
Kurt feels like there is a lot in there he should be protesting, but instead all he asks, "Why exactly are you being so nice? David is one thing, but we..."
Sebastian's head rolled lazily to the side, letting gravity do most of the work. "I want to be a doctor. Like, a doctor. Someone who plays with life and death, and unless I'm going to fuck up royally, I have to have some kind of fucking moral code. Because do you want to know when I decided to try for med school, and study pre-med this year?" Kurt shook his head mutely, pressing a hand to his forehead when the world didn't move the way he expected it to. "Two days before David Karofsky tried to kill himself."
Kurt winced, almost reaching out a comforting hand before he'd thought about it. He knew how heavily his own guilt still sat, and if Sebastian's story in the Lima Bean all those months ago had been true, he could imagine the weight it must have put on Sebastian too.
Sebastian ran a hand roughly through his hair. "I had just decided to dedicate my whole life to healing people, and then smack. I was hit head on with the biggest fucking reminder of all the destruction I'd been causing for years. Not just Dave, and not just Blaine's eye. It was so fucking widespread. From being a bitch to you, to ruining the senior years of Warblers like Nick and Thad, to all the dumb ass fucking things in France..." His face was fierce, almost angry, and his eyes were suddenly the clearest and hardest Kurt had seen them since his own senior year. "How the fuck am I supposed to atone for all that? How can I possibly make a good doctor when all I've ever done is break things?"
Kurt was struck almost speechless. "I don't really know," he said honestly, finding it difficult to return Sebastian's gaze. "I think you can really only try to change your actions in the future."
Sebastian closed his eyes, expression slightly sad. "Yeah. Whatever."
Kurt, out of habit, tugged his phone out of his pocket to check for new messages and caught sight of the time. "I am so glad today's a Saturday. It's five in the morning. We should go to sleep."
Slowly Sebastian unwound himself from the couch, pulling some blankets and a pillow from somewhere Kurt was too tired to notice. Kurt's energy drained faster than sand through his fingers, so much so that all he could be bothered to do is toe off his shoes and mumble a garbled thanks to Sebastian before he crashed on his couch, closing his eyes. He heard the sleep-faraway sound of slightly stumbling footsteps, the click of a door shutting somewhere on the side of the apartment Kurt hadn't seen, and then he slipped away from the world.
