A/N: Warnings for talks about anxiety and attempted assault, underage, age gap, thoughts about sex (rimming, anal), foul language.
"So, are we on for golf at the club on Friday?" Sebastian asks his friend, extending a hand in his direction for a shake.
"You know, I don't know how you managed to get me to go to that fancy club of yours," Burt Hummel says with a laugh and a nod of his head, taking Sebastian's hand and shaking it forcefully, "but yeah, I'll see you there."
"Great." Sebastian returns Burt's contagious laugh. "I'll see you there." His laughter dies as he adopts a more subtle, smooth smile, and turns to address the teenaged boy standing beside his father. "And will you finally be joining us?" Sebastian asks, trying not to stare too deeply into the impressionable young man's eyes.
The boy swallows hard nonetheless, his mouth dropping open slightly, drawing the attention of Sebastian's eyes immediately to his lips.
"Uh.."
"Kurt has a date on Friday," Burt says, clapping a hand on his son's shoulder.
"In the afternoon?" Sebastian asks, the focus of his eyes completely unchanged.
This time Burt doesn't answer, waiting for his tongue-tied son to join the conversation.
"Uh…yeah," Kurt says, wincing at his own voice, which becomes unnaturally high and pitchy when he gets nervous, "we're going to play goony golf."
"Oh," Sebastian says, rounding out the syllable, drawing it out, "well, doesn't Lima have any place that has glow-in-the-dark mini golf? It's so much more fun in the dark."
Sebastian winks and Kurt swallows again, but a blissfully ignorant Burt butts in with a laugh.
"We have one or two," Burt says, continuing the conversation, "but Kurt's got practice for a musical Friday night."
"Wow," Sebastian says, this time genuinely impressed, "I bet you're the lead, right? What with that impressive voice of yours."
Kurt blushes to his roots, his lips stuttering over words he isn't even saying out loud.
"N-no," he manages finally, "I'm in the chorus."
Sebastian frowns and shakes his head.
"That's a shame." Sebastian reaches forward and puts a hand on Kurt's shoulder, squeezing gently. "It's sad that public school of yours can't seem to recognize true talent." Sebastian sneers at the word public but Kurt is more focused on the hand massaging his shoulder than the slight to his school. "Now, if you were attending Dalton…"
"Oh, Seb, we talked about this," Burt interrupts, "that private school of yours is a little too rich for my blood."
"But I'm an alumni," Sebastian argues, turning his attention completely on Burt but leaving his hand to massage Kurt's shoulder. "One phone call and he'd been in for sure…on scholarship!" He turns an imploring eye back to Kurt, whose expression is caught somewhere between ecstasy and terror. "They have a kick ass choir. The Warblers. They're like rock stars, and I know they'd really appreciate a talent like yours."
"Oh…" Kurt says, at a loss to speak up amid all of Sebastian's compliments, "I…"
"That's really nice of you," Burt says, pulling Kurt away and leading him toward his pick-up truck, "but we'd better head out now or we'll hit traffic."
"I see what you're doing," Sebastian scolds his friend, "but we're not done talking about this."
"I'm sure we're not," Burt laughs, opening the door and pushing Kurt inside. "This is only, what, the fiftieth time you've brought it up?"
"You'll see it my way eventually," Sebastian calls when Burt slips into his seat. "I'm just trying to do what's best for our boy."
Burt waves and starts up his truck. He backs down the drive with his head turned to look over his shoulder, which is why he doesn't notice the way Sebastian stares longingly at Kurt as he pulls away…or the way Kurt stares back.
Sebastian sighs as they drive away.
Yup, he's going to hell.
Sebastian might not have all his moral marbles in the same bag, but even he knows there are some things you don't do…
…and your best friend's seventeen-year-old son is one of those things - without a shadow of a doubt. That doesn't mean he hasn't thought about it. Maybe he is flattering himself in his older age, but he has a feeling that this boy likes him, too, with his flirty smiles and the way he blushes every time Sebastian pays him even the slightest compliment.
Or maybe Sebastian's wrong. Maybe he's turned into one of those creepy To Catch a Predator guys, and poor, innocent Kurt has no idea how to tell Sebastian to fuck off and go away. He'll admit that he does tend to come on a bit strong but when it comes to Kurt, Sebastian doesn't seem to know how to turn it off. It's not that Sebastian is desperate for ass. He definitely is not one of those guys who let himself go in his forties. He can hit up any bar or any night club, any night of the week, and come home with his pick of one-night boyfriends – some of them not much older than Kurt.
But as with all of the hapless clichés that tend to trap a man like Sebastian in its clutches - a man who has spent his life casually dating, a man who has never found the one - Kurt is different. He's sweet and smart and fun…and it doesn't help that he's gorgeous. Even at seventeen, Sebastian knows this boy is not a heart breaker.
He's definitely a life-ruiner.
But Kurt has his whole future ahead of him, things he needs to try and do and experience and fail at, and it would be immensely selfish for Sebastian to even entertain doing anything with him.
Besides, he knows his friend Burt. He loves the man like a brother. Sebastian was there when Burt's wife Elizabeth died. He knows Burt is completely devoted to his only son.
He also knows Burt has a shotgun, and best friend or not, he wouldn't think twice about shooting Sebastian – not necessarily to kill, but to maim – to torture him slowly until dying is the only merciful option left.
Sebastian turns from the doorway and retires to his room, ready to drink himself to sleep so he can get lost in his favorite, albeit completely taboo, fantasies about Kurt.
They usually start the same way.
Dream Kurt calls him in the middle of the night. The reason his subconscious mind supplies always varies – his car breaks down, he's had a fight with his dad, he's looking for a lay. Tonight's reason - him and his quasi-boyfriend got into a fight, and the douchebag in question left Kurt on the side of the road.
Perfect.
In his dream, Sebastian drives to the rescue, pulling up to a distraught Kurt in his midnight blue Porsche, and it was raining to boot.
Nice touch, subconscious mind.
Kurt has his arms wrapped around his torso when he drops into the leather seat, soaking wet and sobbing softly.
"I'm s-s-sorry for calling s-s-so late," Kurt whimpers when Sebastian reaches past him to close the car door, "but I didn't know w-what to d-do." Kurt sniffles and Sebastian hands him a tissue. Kurt nods and whispers, "Thanks," before daintily blowing his nose.
"Why didn't you call your dad?" Sebastian asks, considering whether he should put a comforting hand on Kurt's shoulder or keep his distance. He decides to keep his distance for now. Kurt looks pretty shaken up.
"B-because I sn-snuck out," Kurt explains. "He d-doesn't know I'm not home."
Sebastian tsks, not intending to sound condescending, but when Kurt whimpers louder, he stops. Sebastian watches Kurt in silence as the boy settles down, hiding his face behind his hands.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Sebastian asks.
Kurt says nothing for a moment, then takes a deep breath in, preparing to speak.
"We were just supposed to go to the movies," Kurt explains, his chest heaving with the words, "but then he tried to…to force himself on me." New tears start down Kurt's cheeks and Sebastian feels his heart twist in his chest. It's a strangely intense feeling for a dream, but then again, he puts all of himself into these fantasies. "I told him that I didn't want my first time to be in the back of a car." Kurt leans into his outbreak of sobs, resting his forehead on his knees. Sebastian runs a hand down his back, trying to offer some comfort without stepping over any lines, except now he finds that he has another problem – dream or not, there's a teenaged boy out there that he's itching to kill.
He's just about to ask Kurt where he is, where can he go find this kid and beat him into unconsciousness, when Kurt's voice pipes up suddenly, breaking through Sebastian's fog of vengeance.
"Please don't take me home," Kurt pleads. "I can't…I can't face my dad right now."
Sebastian imagines his subconscious did that to move the dream along. Obviously, taking a tangent to beat up Kurt's asshole ex-boyfriend would be a total boner kill, so he'll bypass it for now and use it as fuel for other fantasies.
Sex with Kurt after avenging his honor could turn out to be super hot.
"I won't," Sebastian says, continuing to run his hand up and down Kurt's spine, stopping to knead at tight muscles. "You'll come home with me," he says, making the decision last minute. "You can spend the night in the guest room, and tomorrow we'll figure out what to tell your dad. How's that?"
Kurt doesn't have the strength to answer. He nods, lifting his head an inch from where it hides in his hands to give Sebastian a weak smile.
"Good." Sebastian sits up and fires the engine, turning onto the highway and speeding back to his place.
He doesn't remember the drive back to his house, but then again, he never does in these kinds of dreams. Kurt is simply sullen and quiet, and they don't talk, since Kurt is completely heartbroken.
They get back to Sebastian's place and things progress pretty quickly from there – scenes jumping from one to the other like he's skipping through a DVD. He hands Kurt a towel and offers him a pair of pajamas, leading him to the shower and avoiding saying something cheesy like offering to wash his back. Kurt reaches out for the door knob, but then turns and rushes into Sebastian's arms, wrapping himself up in Sebastian's embrace and crying in earnest.
"Thank you, Sebastian," Kurt says. Sebastian feels Kurt's voice more than he hears it from where he has his head pressed into Sebastian's shoulder. "I was so frightened…"
"That's alright, Kurt," Sebastian says, placing a small kiss to Kurt's temple without realizing it and feeling his heart melt when Kurt risks giving Sebastian a kiss back on his shoulder. Then he turns and hurries into the bathroom, shutting the door and quickly turning on the shower water.
Fast forward again and Kurt is sitting in Sebastian's lap, begging for a kiss, pleading with sweet, innocent words – "You can't imagine how long I've dreamt about this…how long I've wanted to kiss you…I know I'm only seventeen, but I want to be with you…"
Sebastian, trying to be a gentleman, refuses – or at least prolongs the inevitable.
"No, Kurt…this isn't right…you're my best friend's son…I'm so much older than you…this will never work…"
Sebastian doesn't believe any of the things he says (he might in real life, but he doesn't have to in these dreams) but putting Kurt off, making him beg for it, is part of what makes this fantasy so fucking hot.
Then the time comes and Sebastian gives in, letting Kurt kiss him, turning the tables and capturing his lips when Kurt fumbles with his immature, inexperienced technique. Sebastian smiles, gathering Kurt in his arms, lifting him in the air and carrying him to his bed…because why not? This is Sebastian's fantasy. This is the only place where Sebastian gets to have Kurt, so he'll indulge.
Sebastian indulges when he undresses Kurt, one article of clothing at a time, peppering his skin with kisses – some soft and tender, some urgent and filthy. He indulges when he stares down at a naked Kurt. He stares until Kurt squirms, drinking in every inch of his creamy skin, his trim dancer's body, the chestnut tuft of hair surrounding his impressive cock that grows with every sweep of Sebastian's eyes and already leaking at the tip.
Sebastian leans forward to collect the tiny pearl of moisture on his tongue, and Kurt's pale skin goes immediately dark red.
He indulges when he flips Kurt over, carefully pulling Kurt's cheeks apart to stare at the rose-colored hole of his entrance, and attacks it with his tongue. He licks in circles with the tip and sucks at the delicate skin all around. Kurt's moans and cries are like music, filling Sebastian's ears and urging him on, lighting every inch of his skin with a fire to be buried deep inside this angelic boy, and when that time comes – when he dreams he's pushing himself slowly into Kurt's body – it's like floating away to paradise.
"Yes, yes, yes," Sebastian's dream lover pants as Sebastian moves deep inside him, pulling out slowly and then pushing in again. Sebastian looks down at this magnificent boy – his long, lithe back arching towards him, his legs quivering with every drag of Sebastian's cock. Sebastian scratches his nails over the swell of the boy's cheeks - pale, untouched skin beneath his fingertips and a virgin ass tight around his cock…it's so incredibly real that he can almost convince himself it is if not for the phenobarbital he took and the two glasses of whiskey he drank before bed.
That'll make it all the more pathetic when he wakes up in the morning with the sheets sliding off the mattress from where he has rutted them so hard they actually pulled off the bed, stained and stiff with his own dried cum.
But right now isn't the time for reality. Now is the time for losing his mind in this dream he's made for himself – the perfect dream.
The perfect trap really, since it's going to sting like hell when it's gone.
He feels Kurt stiffen against him, hears him mewl like a cat as his hips stutter, hears his cries of lustful abandon as he cums, barely able to keep himself upright long enough for Sebastian to finish. Sebastian holds Kurt's hips up, keeps his ass locked against Sebastian's body so that he can fill him up, long and deep, cradled in this boy's warm body until he has nothing left.
Sebastian smiles – he can feel the smile on his face as he sleeps – as he leans over to kiss down Kurt's trembling back.
"How was that, my darling?" he whispers, knowing what the answer will be.
It's always the same, and Sebastian loves to hear it.
"Th-that…that was…oh my God…" Dream Kurt loses all ability to speak, collapsing on the bed and rolling on his back to look up into Sebastian's satisfied face. Kurt shakes his head back and forth as he grasps for something coherent to say. "That was better than I dreamed it would be."
Sebastian kisses Kurt again, tucking the boy beneath the blankets, chuckling privately at the irony.
Sebastian groans as he opens his eyes to begin his day. He doesn't want to. He knows what's waiting for him.
Nothing. He's alone, surrounded but nothing but the evidence of his own wretched and shameful crutch – his sordid fantasies of a seventeen-year-old boy who Sebastian is determined, now more than ever, would do his best to stay fifty feet away from Sebastian at all times.
Like it or not, Sebastian is nothing but a fucking perv. Terrific sex dream or no, there's no excuse for exploiting an innocent boy.
He decides once and for all that he's going to make it his mission to forget all about Kurt and find a nice, stable, halfway decent man his own age to obsess over, starting today.
The thought makes him want to vomit.
But no more than the realization that he isn't alone.
This time his phenomenal sex dream wasn't a just dream.
He hears a contented sigh behind him and turns away from his bedside table where his clock, his phone, his car keys, and his single phenobarbital lay beside a tumbler full of whiskey.
Beside him in bed Kurt lays asleep, with mussed hair, a smile on his lips, and large marks purpling on his neck.
Sebastian's breath catches in his throat as he tries to remember what exactly happened.
He was dreaming. He did dream about all those things, but that didn't mean they hadn't happened.
He was reliving the events of the night.
Sebastian had retired with his pill and his whiskey, but he took a shower first, and by the time he got out his phone was ringing.
It was Kurt, crying, ditched on the side of the road.
Sebastian went to pick him up and then…
Jesus fucking Christ!
Sebastian holds his breath, his entire body shaking.
He can't even find a way to be happy about having the most amazing night of his life…
…because the minute Burt finds out, he's as good as dead.