Kurt walks alone down the dark city streets with his head bowed and his hands shoved deep in his pockets, feeling as thin and insignificant as he looks. He has left the top button of his jacket undone, going out for the evening sans scarf and letting the bitter wind nip at his face and neck. He doesn't care that, by not paying attention to the people around him, he's making himself a target for muggers. He doesn't care about the cold air drying out his skin. He doesn't care about his messed up hair or his runny nose. He doesn't care about his ruddy cheeks stained with the tracks of re-occurring tears. He goes out alone like this every night, retracing the paths that he and Blaine walked together, down to their favorite coffee shop, passing the corner bodega where they picked up late night snacks whenever the mood hit, and over to the little flower stop where they bought lilies every Monday and roses every Friday. These routes are still ingrained in Kurt's brain; he can walk them by heart, putting his body on autopilot and letting his mind wander.
Tonight, like most nights, it wanders back to Scandals, to that horrible night when Blaine introduced Kurt to his new boyfriend – Dave Karofsky. Kurt had not seen that coming. Now nothing in the world could surprise him anymore.
Kurt didn't return to their table after he excused himself to go to the bathroom. He couldn't. He couldn't make himself stop crying, and he wasn't about to let Blaine and Dave see him sweat. That's not to say that he left with his head held high – more like he paid a particularly heavy set drag queen in a gold lame dress and wearing an obscene peacock-adorned hat five bucks to walk with him to the exit, blocking his body from view.
He didn't answer any of Blaine's calls or any of his worried texts, and made the decision that night to return to New York. He didn't tell anyone except his father that he was leaving; he just left. He knew he had promised Rachel that he'd help her resurrect the Glee Club, but he couldn't. He couldn't be within a mile of that Blaine and Dave mess, especially considering that his machinations for returning to Lima were to win Blaine back. It was humiliating to be turned down flat, but Dave was the salt on the wound. Kurt knows that by now Blaine must have told Dave what Kurt said before he showed up. Kurt's mind can't help torturing him with images of Blaine and Dave in bed together, in various stages of undress, wrapped in each other's arms, discussing how he lamely blurted out that he was going to get Blaine's forgiveness, and then get his heart back. It kills Kurt to think that they're kissing while discussing how bad they feel for him, how pathetic he is, how Dave hopes he can find someone to help him through this rough patch the way Kurt had helped him, and Blaine, rolling beneath his new boyfriend, ready to mess around, ends the conversation by saying something banal like he wishes Kurt all the best.
That last image nearly makes Kurt put his fist through a brick wall.
Kurt walks well into the night with these pictures in his head, well past a time where it probably isn't advisable for him to be out alone. While he does, he mentally tries to sort through his priorities and makes a plan for piecing his life back together - NYADA, work study, Winter Showcase (hopefully), Vogue (maybe he can talk Isabelle into sending him on some sort of assignment)… Unfortunately, the entry win Blaine back pops into his head from time to time, forcing him to go to the beginning of his list and start all over again.
Kurt doesn't know how it happens. He doesn't know when he started walking there. He's surprised he even remembers that he's there.
Months before their fight, Santana took Blaine and Kurt to crash a frat party on the NYU campus, and they bumped into Sebastian Smythe. Blaine was way more excited about the reunion than Kurt. Blaine and Sebastian had always stayed friends – let bygones be bygones and all that - regardless of any objection of Kurt's. Kurt's opinion on Sebastian had been less cut-and-dry. He was pleased that Sebastian felt guilty about the things he had done to torment the New Directions and apologized after the situation with Dave (though, without Dave's suicide attempt, where would that apology be?). Kurt was also grateful for the part he played in helping Blaine arrange his theatrical proposal, but otherwise, Kurt would rather forget that Sebastian Smythe existed.
When they saw him at the party, he was drinking pale ale from a growler, and wearing a toga with a wreath of plastic olive branches sitting lopsidedly on his head. He spotted them from across the room and stumbled his drunk ass over. He smelled like a distillery and smiled like a fool. He threw his arms around their shoulders and said, "Hey, tiger. Hello, princess."
Just like high school all over again.
In some ways, Sebastian was still the same annoying jerk – flirting with anything that moved (including Kurt's then fiancé), having absolutely no filter, and being intentionally inappropriate every five seconds. But he did look after them the whole night, introduced them around – both of them – as his friends and special guests, and when they left, he told them where he was staying and invited them to stop by anytime.
Kurt's subconscious apparently thought that now was as good a time as any.
Kurt doesn't think he remembers where Sebastian said his dorm room was (Kurt had been surprised that Sebastian was even living in the dorms. Kurt, for one, assumed that Sebastian would have an apartment of his own, or even a penthouse uptown, but Sebastian mentioned something about wanting the full college experience, which Kurt assumed was code for easy access to ass) but somehow he pieces his way together, and ends up at Sebastian's door.
Kurt stares at the wooden door, so reminiscent of their room doors at Dalton, bringing up so many bittersweet memories that he starts to question what he's actually doing there. What is he hoping to accomplish? But another image of Blaine and Dave pushes its way into his brain, an image that makes him want to be sick. Instead of vomiting in the hallway, he decides to knock on the door.
"Oh…God damned fucking shit!" he hears Sebastian's voice growl from the other side of the locked door. "Go the fuck away!"
But Kurt can't. He's gotten this far, hasn't he? If he leaves, he'll never come back, and he'll forever be a Lima Loser – at least where relationships are concerned. Why should Blaine get his chance to dip his dick wherever he wants when, to date, Kurt has only been with one man? And considering the irony of who that one man is, Kurt's lack of sexual experimentation is not even fucking funny anymore.
Kurt knocks again, hearing Sebastian's voice growl louder, but Kurt heads him off before he can speak.
"Sebastian? It's…it's Kurt."
Silence follows Kurt's announcement, and then, "Kurt?"
Kurt hears a mad rustle, a chair kick over, a foreign voice yell, "Hey!" and then footsteps clambering up to the door. The door swings open and there Sebastian stands, naked except for a towel around his waist and his noteworthy smirk on his face. His hair is a little mussed, his lips a bit swollen, and there's a dark purple mark blooming on his neck. Kurt tries to smile as if he hasn't noticed any of that.
"Kurt," Sebastian says, panting out the word, obviously fighting nature to keep his heart rate (and his hard-on, if Kurt's quick glance is correct) down.
"Hey, Sebastian," Kurt says, feeling more pathetic than he had before. "I'm…I'm sorry to interrupt…"
"Nah," Sebastian says, waving away Kurt's apology with a swipe of his hand. "I said anytime. Though I probably should have given you my phone number so you could let me know you were coming, huh?"
"Yeah," Kurt says, blushing with guilt at the notion. At the time, he probably would have set it aside and purposefully lost it. Knowing where Sebastian lives wasn't important to him until tonight.
"So, what's up? Why are you here?" Sebastian asks, leaning out of his room and looking up and down the hallway. "And where's the ball-and-chain?"
"Uh…we kind of…sort of…broke up," Kurt says, not really wanting to go too much into details. Convincing himself to have sex with Sebastian will be difficult enough. All he needs is more made-up images of Blaine and Dave to kill any chance of him getting remotely turned on.
"Ah," Sebastian says, his bemused look morphing into one of understanding and his subtle smile turning into a hungry grin. "So, what brings you to my neck of the woods? Out for a late night stroll, perhaps? Looking into switching colleges? You know, I hear that NYU has a stellar Fine Arts program."
"Honestly…" Kurt says, that pathetic feeling turning into an iron-hard lump in his stomach, "I've been looking into the possibility of seeing other people…"
"Congratulations," Sebastian says, his voice oozing sarcasm, enjoying the way Kurt's cheeks grow deeper and deeper scarlet with every word, how his eyes try to dart away, catch sight of Sebastian's sinfully thin towel, and then pop back up to his eyes again. "And you're here because…"
"Because, you know," Kurt says, making gestures with his hands that are as vague as his words, trying to find that secret well of courage that will force the words I want you to fuck me now! pop out of his mouth, "I've always secretly thought you were kind of hot."
Sebastian nods.
"I can see where that could be true," Sebastian says, "but I'm not buying it."
Kurt sighs.
"Because, even though we've had our differences, we parted as kind-of friends, and it might be nice to explore if that relationship has any merit?"
He doesn't know why it sounds like a question – maybe because he's doubting this plan of his on so many levels.
"Try again," Sebastian says, crossing his arms over his chest.
Kurt drops his head to stare at his feet, takes a long breath in, then looks up at Sebastian's amused expression again.
"Because I broke off my engagement with Blaine and when I went back to Lima to apologize and get him back I found out he's dating the guy who bullied me all through high school until I helped him put his life back together and I was hoping that if I fucked you it would somehow get back to him and he would start hating life as much as I do."
Kurt says it all in one breath. It comes out of his mouth like an exhale, and when he's done, he feels ten pounds lighter.
Sebastian stares, looking for a split second like he's torn between laughing in Kurt's face or slamming the door in it.
"Well, in that case…" Sebastian looks over his shoulder, the door opening wider, and Kurt can see another man lying on the only bed in the room, covered by a sheet, staring at Sebastian, silently willing him to return to whatever they were doing before Kurt arrived. "Hey, Ryan…"
"Roger!" the man barks back, glaring in disgust past Sebastian to Kurt.
"Like I care," Sebastian says, rolling his eyes and setting his focus back on Kurt, "grab your clothes and get lost." Sebastian's eyes rake over Kurt's body like a hyena sizing up its next meal. "I have to help an old friend settle a score."
