To clarify: Kurt is 17, Sebastian is about 24

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters

Kurt was sitting in his hospital bed, head tilted all the way back, eyes focused on the ceiling. For the past hour, he had been counting all the little dots in the ceiling, and, needless to say, it had become sufficiently boring.

Two thousand six hundred seventy two

Two thousand six hundred seventy three

Kurt let out a moan of boredom and sat up quickly, his face twisting at the sudden pain that racked his side. Five days had passed the incident, and he still hadn't healed completely. Kurt had been told that he was extremely lucky to be recovering as fast as he was now, yet that it would still be too long before he was regained all his strength again.

The door to his room opened, and a young-ish woman walked in, holding a clipboard.

"How are you feeling today, Kurt?" she asked, pulling back the blankets to examine his legs.

"Fine, thank you. I'm just a little tired, but I think that's just because of a lack of sleep."

Dr. Niliken gently started to prod Kurt's legs, pausing every so often to write something on the clipboard. "You didn't sleep well, Kurt?"

"I'm not used to this bed yet. I expect it will get better as I get adjusted. It's just that five days without walking is kind of…weird," Kurt chose his words carefully, trying to find a better word for how he was feeling. He tried not to wince as Dr. Niliken pressed her fingers into his thighs.

"Well, Kurt, it looks like you're in luck," she said, smiling. "Your legs are healing fantastically, so it looks like you can start your physical therapy today."

"Really? But the other doctor said-"

"And I'm saying that you'll be able to handle it. I'll make a call to the physical therapist office and see if I can't have someone in here by this afternoon." Dr. Niliken smiled at Kurt, then left the room.

Kurt could hardly believe it. When he had first regained consciousness after the incident, he had been told that he would have to wait at least a month before he could even try to walk again. Oh, he remembered that day so well…

"Wha…?" Kurt felt his sleepy mind being dragged out of the blackness, and shapes began to form in front of him. Someone was muttering meaningless words, and he tried to make sense of it. He became suddenly aware of the pain, pain that was covering every inch of his body. His brain was fogged over.

"Kurt? Focus on this." Someone was shoving their finger into his face. Kurt tried to roll his eyes in annoyance, but found he couldn't even complete that simple action without a stabbing pain in his head.

"What happened?" Kurt's voice felt raspy and sounded all weird and croaky, and not at all musical like it normally did.

"You were in a car crash," someone said. "Focus on my finger." Kurt did so obediently, and found his vision starting to clear.

Two adults were standing in front of him. One was shining a flashlight into his eye and muttering pointless words to a woman, who was standing with a clipboard. They were both wearing professional-looking white coats.

"Okay," Kurt slurred. It was hard to get his words out clearly. "What exactly happened to me?"

The two doctors looked at each other. The women looked expectantly at the man who sighed and looked at Kurt with intelligent, yet somewhat cold eyes.

And he told him. The doctor told him how Kurt had been driving home from school one day, when a drunken truck driver had swerved onto the road out of seeming nowhere and slammed into Kurt's car. They told him how the ambulance had arrived to find Kurt unconscious and literally lying in his own blood. They told him how they had taken him to the hospital and performed emergency surgery on his spleen and spinal cord.

"Spinal cord?" Kurt asked. "Does that mean I'm…paralyzed?"

The male doctor shook his head. "You were lucky, Kurt," she said. "Your spinal cord was only mildly damaged, and based on the tests we've taken, you'll actually be able to walk again. However, that might take days, it may take months. We'll have to wait and see. But I wouldn't count on a miracle, if I were you."

Kurt nodded slowly, not really processing the information that was being told to him. He could see the female doctor looking had him with a look of sympathy. Or maybe it was pity. Either one was bad.

"Aside from that, you also suffered a minor concussion, ruptured spleen, and your lower right arm was almost shattered. We've got those issues under control, though, so unless you feel something really painful in your stomach or arm, I wouldn't worry too much."

Kurt looked down, and saw his right arm covered with a cast from below his wrist to above his elbow. He became aware of a thick bandage pressing against his stomach, and shifted uncomfortable in the bed.

"I know this is a lot to take in right now, Kurt," the female nurse said softly, "but you're going to recover from this completely. I promise."

Kurt was doubtful.

Now, however, Kurt felt certain that he was recovering well. His stomach was healing nicely, and so was his arm. Recent tests had shown that his concussion was healing just as rapidly. He reached into the pocket of his loose-yet-fashionable shorts (hours of convincing the nurses that hospital gowns weren't a good look for him and designer clothes wouldn't slow down his recovery process had allowed him to change into some of his own clothes that Finn had brought him) for his phone, then whipped it out (with his left hand, of course) and speed-dialed his dad.

As he waited for his Burt to pick up, Kurt planed what to tell him. He knew his dad would want him to call after the physical therapy session too, as Burt and Carole were stuck in Oregon visiting Carole's parents. Kurt knew they had booked a flight home as soon as they heard about Kurt's accident, but to their horror, the airport (and many surrounding ones) had been temporarily shut down because of some flu outbreak. Despite all this, Burt and Carole had made sure to call their son every afternoon. As for Finn, he came to see Kurt every evening, but he had other commitments that he simply couldn't let go of, especially not when it was so close to the end of his senior year. Kurt knew it wasn't his family's fault that he was all alone, and he didn't blame anyone for it; he just wished he could have someone to talk to to pass the long hours of the day away.

Burt Hummel picked up on the third ring. "Hey Dad!" Kurt almost squealed, unable to keep the happiness out of his voice.

"Hey buddy," Burt replied, unmistakable sleepiness in his voice. Kurt looked at the clock on the wall, which told him it was only 6am in Oregon. Oh well. This was more important.

"Dad, guess what?"

"I can't guess, Kurt. It's too early for guessing." Burt was yawning again.

"Okay okay, I'll just tell you." Kurt took a big breath, then let it all out with a whoosh. "The doctor said I could start my walking therapy today!"

"They did? Kurt, that's great! Hey, Carole! Kurt's gonna start walking again!"

"Well I might not get too far today, Dad. They said it's a long process." Kurt was starting to feel uneasy. What if the doctors had been wrong? What if he wouldn't be able to walk?

Burt seemed to sense Kurt's worry. "Listen to me, Kurt. I just know that you're going to be fine. You're strong, and capable, and goddammit when I can finally book us a plane home you're going to be running!"

Kurt smiled and giggled at his dad's words.

"Ok bud, I should probably go now because we're using up all the minutes on this phone, but I'll call you from the landline tonight, don't worry. I know you can do this, and Carole and I will support you every step of the way, even though we're not with you physically. And tonight, you're going to tell me everything that happened in your session."

"Thanks, Dad. I love you. And give my best wishes to Carole!"

"Sure thing, Kurt. Love you too."

Kurt hung up and smiled, all of his doubts wiped away by his dad. He put his phone on the table next to his bed and picked up a book, a smile slowly sliding onto his face and staying there.

Kurt sat straight up in the hospital bed, his left hand drumming on his knee impatiently. Dr. Niliken had come in about ten minutes ago, telling Kurt that the physical therapist had arrives, he would see Kurt any moment now, and that she was going to leave them alone so they could "get acquainted," whatever that meant.

"It's very important that you built a lasting relationship with the therapist, because you'll be relying on him for the next few months to get your strength back," Dr. Niliken had warned Kurt. "Don't give me that weird look! You're going to want to get to know the person who's helping you walk again, for goodness sake." Kurt had simply rolled his eyes and gone back to reading his book.

Kurt was much too anxious to read now. He squirmed in his bed, completely ready to be back on his feet again. Just when was the man going to come? It had better be soon, or-

Just then, the door clicked open, and a tall, 20-somethingish man walked in. Quite some man, in fact. Because this man was gorgeous.

He was maybe four inches taller than Kurt, with an immaculate face with sparkling green eyes framed with golden-brown, perfectly styled hair. A short-sleeved polo shirt and long khakis showed off a toned body, and Kurt immediately felt self-conscious about his own, too-skinny frame. This guy was handsome, hands down. Kurt usually would have chided himself for being superficial, but seriously. This guy was hot. Kurt briefly imagined him and the man walking down Broadway, holding hands and laughing about the musical they had just enjoyed, but forced himself back to reality. A guy like that most likely wasn't even gay. He probably wasn't even bi.

The man turned around to shut the door, and Kurt caught a brief glimpse of the designer label on the top of his pants.

Alexander McQueen.

Definitely gay.

The man turned around and walked over to Kurt, a charming smile on his face. He extended a hand to Kurt, who awkwardly took it with his cast-covered hand.

"Kurt Hummel, right?" The man said, his smooth voice making Kurt's heart leap. Get ahold of yourself, Kurt.

Kurt nodded.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Sebastian Smythe, but you can just call me Sebastian," the man said, winking at Kurt. Kurt's breathe caught in his throat. The man had winked at him, for Gaga's sake!

"Uh, you can call me Kurt, I guess," Kurt managed to choke out. Sebastian's smile widened at Kurt's voice, which was clearly an octave too high (even for Kurt's naturally high speaking tone).

"Well, then, Kurt" - Kurt almost sighed with pleasure at the sound of his name being said by the taller man- "shall we get started?"

Kurt nodded, and started to push back the blankets, but stopped when a hand was placed on his shoulder.

"Slow down there, Kurt." Sebastian cautioned, gently pushing Kurt (who had started to blush) back. Kurt sank back onto the pillows while Sebastian grabbed a chair and moved it next to the bed, before sitting down so he was eye level with the smaller boy. "You can't push yourself too hard today," Sebastian warned. "You're still recovering, and you don't want to push your muscles and nerves too hard, especially on the first day."

Kurt nodded, his head still spinning a little from the feel of Sebastian's hand on his shoulder.

"If you get even a little bit tired, you have to tell me, Kurt. I don't want to prolong your recovery time, okay?" Again, Kurt nodded, and Sebastian smiled and stood up. Kurt started to push back the blankets again (feeling extremely grateful that he was wearing his own fashionable clothes), sat up slowly, and gently pushed himself off the bed.

As he shifted his weight to his feet, Kurt's legs started to shake a little, as if they weren't ready to support him. "Careful," Sebastian said, gently placing one of his hands on the small of Kurt's back and the other a few inches from his arm, ready to support him.

Kurt carefully took a step forward, then another tentative one. His legs were awkward and clumsy, and he could feel his nerves pinch with every step, but still! He stepped more confidently, and felt Sebastian's hand leave his back and the other man moved to Kurt's side to watch his movements, the older man's grin widening with every step Kurt made.

After a couple minutes of slow, careful walking, they had made it out into the middle of the hallway. Kurt's legs were kind of hurting now, but he didn't want to stop. Every step he took was a step towards recovery. Suddenly, as he moved forward, his left knee gave out on him, and Kurt went crashing to the floor. Before he reached it, however, Sebastian slid his arms under Kurt's back, stopping him from hitting the hard tile.

Kurt stayed in the older man's grip for a few moments before breathing out the breath he had been holding.

"Can you make it back to your room?" Sebastian asked, clearly relieved that Kurt hadn't collided with the ground.

"I-I think so, I just can't put too much weight on my knee," Kurt replied shakily.

"Let's not take any more chances," Sebastian replied softly, shifting his grip on the younger boy so one arm was under his knees, the other right under his back. Cradling Kurt to his chest, they started off towards Kurt's room.

When they arrived, Sebastian gently sat Kurt on the bed (who looked slightly disappointed at being put down) and sifted though a cupboard before pulling out some cloth long bandages.

"Let's take a look at that knee," the taller man said, bending down and gently taking Kurt's left knee in his hands. After a few minutes of careful examination, he diagnosed it as "sprained, but not badly," and began to wrap the cloth strip around Kurt's knee.

As the other boy worked, Kurt looked idly around the room, then looked up.

Two thousand six hundred seventy four, two thousand six hundred seventy five

All of a sudden, Kurt became aware of Sebastian's clear green eyes looking intently at him. He looked down at the other man, their eyes locking together. The older man slowly stood up halfway, so his face was level with Kurt's, his eyes slowly drifting to Kurt's lips.

Kurt looked at Sebastian, who returned his gaze to the younger boy's and gently brushed some of Kurt's carefully styled bangs away from his eyes. Kurt's pale blue eyes looked into reassuring green ones and Sebastian's hand moved from Kurt's forehead to his cheek, where he gently stroked it. The older boy leaned in and oh-so-carefully pressed his lips against Kurt's.

Kurt shuddered with pleasure as Sebastian's lips met his own, and his hands slowly moved to the back of Sebastian's head, where they twisted into his hair. The other boy moved his hands to either side of Kurt's jaw, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

Kurt gasped involuntarily when he felt a tongue slide against his lips, causing his mouth to open and letting the older boy's tongue slip inside. All the blood was rushing to Kurt's head, and he felt blissfully dizzy, his hands combing through Sebastian's golden locks as the other boy gently caressed his cheek.

They both pulled away at the same time, Kurt gasping for air, a heated blush spreading over his entire face. Sebastian, on the other hand, was smirking almost cockily, his eyes dark from their kiss.

"Looks we're out of time for the day, Kurt," Sebastian stood up, nonchalantly looking at his watch as if nothing had happened (yet his smile gave everything away). "I will see you" - he leaned over to gently brush his hand against the side of Kurt's face, who closed his eyes at the other boy's touch - "tomorrow." And with those parting words, Sebastian Smythe left Kurt sitting on the edge off the bed, still reeling with shock and pleasure at what had just happened.

What was he going to tell his dad?

Aaaah, my first attempt at anything remotely romantic! I might continue if I get some positive feedback. Hope you liked it!

My apologies to all you Klaine shippers!