Here are some notes about my SBAIY-specific AU. I will add anything else I think is relevant as we go along!

- Rachel was never a part of Glee club. Finn still joined because he was blackmailed by Mr. Schue, but instead of Rachel, it was Tina he had the off and on affairs with, the "loser" he fell for and cheated on Quinn with. West Side Story still happened but Tina was the lead instead of Rachel. Tina was Kurt's best friend at McKinley

- Rachel is from a part of Ohio hours away and went to Fairbrook High school, never meeting anyone in New Directions, but still had the same personality and role at her school there. Still a headstrong singer with gay dads, etc.

- As in the OG, Kurt and Finn are stepbrothers because Burt and Carole met their sophomore year

- All the stuff with Karofsky still happened, Kurt went to Dalton for a few months and returned


For the first couple of days, Kurt wasn't quite sure he preferred state college to his familiar high school, but soon, he was finding himself adjusting to things. Starting to feel confident in his independence, and this chance at a fresh new start. He had most of his classes in the morning, and most were impersonal, lecture-based general eds, all two hundred identical students being talked at in a massive auditorium by professors, who kind of scared him, mostly because had to call them 'professor,' a word with such weight and pressure.

At a just-about-moderately-ranked school like Ohio State, Kurt was a number; as long as his parents paid tuition, the administration wasn't going to hound him about showing up to class, or deciding to suck someone's face in the back corner of Bio 101, as Kurt had seen two girls blatantly do on the first day.

Kurt found it was nice being a no-name in a sea of thousands, and being one of the youngest people on campus. But he was nostalgic for the tight-knit community that was his former Glee club, the New Directions. Finn and Tina and all of those guys were guaranteed to be friends because of their obscure, extremely polarizing interest in harmonized show tunes. But, there were new cultures and worlds all around in this place, Kurt supposed, even if it was still Ohio. It's just that in high school, Kurt was the constant recipient of sideways glances and stares. From his fashion sense and exaggerated pompadour hairstyle, to the aura he was just born giving off, radiating it, Kurt Hummel was obviously gay. And at McKinley High, where the conservative and bigoted hiveminded, anyone who wasn't straight was basically a leper.

Here, at first, it was strange for him to realize that no one cared. Unlike at his alma mater, he was certainly not the only out person on campus. There was a rather put-together, visible gay, les and queer community on campus, in the form of the Gay Lesbian Bi and Transgender Student Alliance. Kurt liked the girl he'd befriend during Welcome Week at the club booth for said alliance, Rachel Berry, well enough. Sort of. The loud and clearly self-assured brunette was a self-proclaimed "straight ally" and freshman co-director of the GLBTSA, and a musical theater major like Kurt, too. However, while he did sign up for the alliance email list, Kurt was so homesick for his old life, all he really wanted to do between classes was socialize digitally with Blaine. So that was what he did.

Kurt was hoping that Sebastian Smythe, former Dalton celebrity and overall pain in the ass of a clearly-only-child, would be scarce so that he and his boyfriend could FaceTime in peace. But it turned out he and Sebastian had similar class schedules; both needed privacy at the same times of the afternoons and evenings, but one of them was usually too busy (read: selfish) to let the other have it.

Usually that one of them was Sebastian.

Living with Sebastian was Sebastian interrupting Kurt's sessions with Blaine to talk and catch up with the boy he once failed to capture. Purposefully walking around the room doing background things shirtless, showing off that gold, long and able torso. Kurt really wished Sebastian didn't get to have that on top of many other things, like being some kind of millionaire because his parents were from Westerville, the most secluded and privileged neighborhood in the southwest-most county of midwestern Ohio.

It was Kurt telling Sebastian that if he left another god-awful, Steve-from-Blue's-Clues-esque striped polo on his Dior rug, he was going to burn the shirt and sacrifice it to the circle of hell designated for fashion-decency-rule-breakers. Also, did he have to be half-naked? All the freaking time?

Their afternoons usually transpired in a fashion such as this: at the start of the third week, Kurt walked into their room just coming from his only Theater class of the semester, and Sebastian was sitting at his desk in a thin muscle tee and jeans. Working on some kind of homework and singing the lyrics of a song on his Pandora radio:

"Baby boy, where ya at? / Got no strings, got men attached / Can't stop this feeling for long, no / You makin' dogs want to beg / Breaking them off your fancy legs / But they make you feel right at home now-"

Ugh, he would be singing that song. Upon hearing Kurt take a step inside, Sebastian turned around and flashed his devious hazel eyes at his roommate, giving him the slightest of regards. Kurt dropped his binders and books on his bed without grace, purposefully curt, and unwrapping the frayed scarf from his flushed neck. Garing at the way the desk light highlighted the curves of Sebastian's biceps, the veins in his forearms as he sang:

"Oh I swear there's somethin' when he's pumpin' / Askin' for a raise / Well does he want me carry him home now? / Does he want me to buy him things? / On my house, on my job / On my loot, my shoes, my shirt, my crew, my mind, my father's last name-"

Kurt tore his eyes away from Sebastian's skin and focused instead on how deplorable Sebastian's taste in music was and how often he had to please, please ask Sebastian nicely to turn the volume down while he studied, or he was going to have to take his sweet little iPhone and introduce it to his friend called the washing machine, who lived just down the hall.

"Afternoon, Kurt," Sebastian said absently, eyes on his book, taking a break from serenading himself.

Kurt didn't dignify him with a response as he unzipped off his knee-high, navy, leather combat boots and stored them pristinely with the others, all sixteen pairs of them, underneath his lofted bed. He already wasn't having a very good day, realizing the first big exams of each class were coming around and he was humiliating nervous for his designated test days, it was going to be the first big measure of whether or not Kurt had what it took. He didn't need Sebastian making things any more nerve-wracking, and yet-

"There's a floor meeting at ten tonight," Sebastian was saying now, over the sound of the loud, funky music. "RA came by, wanted me to tell you."

Kurt sighed noisily, removing his Burberry sweater and hanging it from his closet door hook.

"Thanks," he said, drab. "I already knew."

Sebastian watched Kurt as he sat down at his desk, which faced the same way as Seb's towards the two twin blinded windows along the back wall. Kurt flipped through his Introduction to Theater binder, unhinged his papers and set them in an orderly fashion, then cleared his throat loudly.

"Baby boy, you the shit / That makes you my equivalent / You could keep your toys in the drawer tonight / All my dogs talkin' fast, ain't you got some photographs? / 'Cause you shook the room like a star, know you did-"

Kurt practically winced at the sound of Sebastian's steady, even voice holding a run on the last note.

"Sebastian?" His voice was mock-sweetness, pure venom, as he smiled and squinted. "We both know how much I enjoy your creepy, crooning, R&B odes to one-night-stands, but would you mind keeping it to a minimum while I study? I'd really appreciate it."

Sebastian chuckled, pressed the 'plus' button on the side of his iPhone, raising the volume. Kurt didn't know why he'd even bothered to ask.

"There's a library across campus for a reason," he said, half dancing in his chair, tapping his socked foot against the carpet.

"Look," Kurt nearly growled, "I've got headphones, you can borrow them if you need to, but I can't hear myself think over the sounds of this unripe, untalented, sex-saturated Congo-music—"

"Don't you think calling it 'Congo' music is kind of racist?" At the look on Kurt's face, Sebastian laughed. "Robin Thicke is far from untalented," he said then. "He's expressive."

"Yes, and I've expressed numerous times in the past few weeks that I don't want to hear it."

Sebastian ignored him.

"All these intrusions just take us too long /" he was singing directly to Kurt now. "And I want you so bad / Because you walk city / Because you talk city / Because you make me sick / And I'm not leaving / 'Til you're leaving-"

Kurt had to admit, it was less that this song was objectively horrible and more that he had some bad, bad memories associated with it. He'll never forget the day Blaine, his one love, stood up in the middle of a GAP and embarassingly belted this song-without changing the pronouns-to an unworthy and mop-headed three-years-older boy. Jeremiah rejected Blaine's advances, and while watching him profess his love for someone else, Kurt realized just how bad he wanted Blaine, sexually and in all other ways that there were to want a person.

"When I get you alone / When I get you you'll know, babe / When I get you alone / When I get you alone-"

Sebastian finally lowered the volume as the last repeat of the chorus died out, and then stood up from his desk.

"For someone who's so into music, you could really stand to broaden your horizons, Kurt," Sebastian said, leaning against his chair, scrolling through his phone. "Take a listen on the wild side for a change."

"Broadway and occasionally off-Broadway musical theater score, my personal genre of preference, is much more substantial than the 'wild' and unoriginal garbage you know and love." He was grateful for the almost-silence, took a short breath, eyeing Sebastian judgmentally. "I bet you've never even seen a real Broadway musical, have you?" he said.

"No, but I know you haven't either," said Sebastian, to which Kurt raised his brows. "Don't try to play snotty-artsy with me, the only musicals you've ever seen are the ones you starred in at your backwoods high school, like the joke of the West Side Story performance senior year that was only saved by Blaine's broad mass appeal, and that ass, of course. Let's not pretend you haven't only been to New York twice, and even then it was for the National Show Choir Competition. That you lost. Both times."

That stung more than Kurt would ever admit, and reminded him just how deep the thorns of Sebastian were in him. Sebastian was there last year, for the heartache and struggle of almost losing his boyfriend and his Dad in such a short period, and Sebastian sitting watching Blaine in the stands with roses as he played, and killed, Tony during West Side Story, that night and how much it changed Kurt's life, made him realize how fickle it all really was.

Kurt just stared at the other boy now, blinking rapidly, trying to regain himself.

"I've flown to New York with my dad on business dozens of times," Sebastian continued, walking over to the top drawer of his dresser, removing headphones from it, "and I can assure you that there were always better things to do than wait in line with hags and their homos at the Gershwin. Night clubs, twenty one and up bars—lusty Wall Street interns, fresh out of work—"

Kurt held his hands up unceremoniously.

"I'm going to have to stop you right there, Sebastian. If I wanted to hear about the life of a big city streetwalker, I'd watch Pretty Woman."

Kurt was ready to abandon ship or kick his former-almost-classmate/lousy-almost-boyfriend-stealer out by the end of that day, but unfortunately his attempts were to no avail. ("Not enough space," the officer on the phone at the housing office had told him, bleak.)

And anyway, once Sebastian quite probably heard Kurt speaking with the housing director, loudly and on purpose, he decided to take things up a notch, clearly.

"So, Kurt." It was Wednesday afternoon and Sebastian was coming back from class, peeling off his jacket, tossing it a few inches over the border of Kurt's side.

Kurt glared at the patterned polyester with all the 'bitch' he could muster, then turned a page in his book. "I thought we agreed that unless it was about business, you and your painfully regressive wardrobe were invisible to me."

"This is all business." Seb dropped his shirt near the jacket. "I have a new rule, for our contract."

"Oh?"

"I'm assuming you've never heard of the sock on the doorknob rule."

When Kurt raised his eyebrows accordingly, Sebastian grinned.

"To put it delicately, I'm having a guy I met at Scandals over the summer come over tonight," he said as he rummaged through a drawer for another shirt, "and he's planning on staying."

As far as the vague promiscuous threats from their first dorming day together, Kurt thought he was safe, for a while. He thought that when Sebastian said he was planning on having sex on Kurt's "pretty little windowsill," he was just being, well, a regular pompous boy. All talk, no follow through.

Sebastian'd already had three guys over that week: Thad from Dalton, who Kurt went to school with while he attended and who he actually enjoyed seeing, before remembering that anyone who associated with this guy was probably also a rich asshole, and two other vaguely attractive Anglo-Saxons who'd introduced themselves as "friends" of Sebastian to Kurt, all while getting practically eyefucked by the man himself. But the guys had each stayed only an hour or two, and whatever transpired happened somewhere in a car or off campus, Kurt could reasonably assume. Apparently this fourth one was going to be a "stayer." What did a sock have to do with anything?

"Not only do I feel terrible for the poor fellow you must've scammed on and quite possibly drugged in order for him to consider spending even more time with you, post your first encounter," Kurt responded, "but I also feel bad for you, for expecting that I'm just going to conveniently disappear anytime you want to use this place as a turnstile to pay yourself out. You're clearly delusional."

Sebastian laughed, slinging his new shirt over his shoulder, crossing his arms, tension forming in them. Kurt swallowed.

"Unlike most, and unlike you, I'm not ashamed having of lots of sex. I'm so good, I don't need to get paid. I consider my skill set a gift to mankind."

"Oh, please. Put a sock in your mouth."

"The way this is going to work," Sebastian continued, walking into Kurt's 'half,' "is that if you leave, come back, and one of my socks is stretched over that brass little knob, it means I'm giving some 'poor fellow' the best stiff hour of his week."

"Ew."

"Better than the ten sweet minutes you'd ever give to Blaine. If you were a top."

Kurt tried not to let offense rise in his chest, literally bit his own tongue to keep himself from wailing that with Blaine it was much, much more than that. This wasn't high school, Blaine hadn't even seen Sebastian in months. He had nothing to worry about it. If he was going to last an entire year feeling this much anger, he was definitely going to have to pick his battles.

"Anyway, he's on his way here now, so I'm going to have to ask you to clear out." Sebastian's smile was still brilliantly wide, undeterred. "I'm sure you can find something to amuse yourself with while I'm working. A copy of Vogue, a bottle of lotion?"

Kurt slammed his his book shut suddenly, rose to his feet to get his keys and things.

"How do men even begin to like someone like you?" he said.

"Stand by the door tonight, I think you'll get a pretty good idea."

Kurt yanked his keys from their post on his bulletin board, in protest.

"It's not like I plan on a sock every minute of every day," Sebastian said. "It'll just be for casual instances, so. Don't get your panties in a knot."

Kurt actually groaned as he scrambled for the doorknob, could practically feel Sebastian's grin burning the skin on his back, as he turned on him.

Kurt dialed Blaine's number the moment he got outside, and demanded Blaine give him five good reasons, with sources, why he shouldn't poison Sebastian in his sleep tonight.

In lieu of being able to Skype with Blaine in the privacy of his dorm room, Kurt spent time at Rachel's that evening. She lived in the all-girls freshman dorm across the way. Dressed in what had to be an eight year old's confirmation dress (why did everyone at Ohio State dress so badly?), Miss Berry was currently trying to convince him to go to some ill-conceived house party on fraternity row called "The De-Flowering," and "Seriously, Rachel? This has 'date rape' written all over it" "It's romantic! Like the soft, fragile petals being torn from a stem as he repeats, 'she loves me, she loves me not.'"

The party wasn't nearly as horrific as Kurt's imagined it would be, the frat house was beautifully large and antique and Kurt wished any of the meatheads who lived there had even a fraction of an idea how much the place and the stuff in it was worth, how little they were valuing it-but he cringed at the sight of people throwing up into potted plants, trolling in beer pong. He was only able to stand it for an hour before he told Rachel, who was up-in-arms with some particular very straight baseball player, that he was going to head out.

More than three hours had gone by since he'd last checked the doorknob with Rachel, before they left to go to the party. Surely Sebastian the Sex-glutton would be done by now.

He wasn't, of course.

Kurt waited almost another hour tired and standing outside the hall, tapping his toes against the cheap, rough carpet and texting Blaine a series of messages he would not answer, because he was asleep. While he was out there one of the cute black guys on their floor, James something-or-other, he'd introduced himself during the first week, passed and smiled first at Kurt, and then at the doorknob.

"Been there, bro." He held up his fist. "Your roommate some kind of stallion or something?"

"Clearly."

Kurt fake-smiled back just as Sebastian's latest pale ingénue was opening up the door to their room and stumbling out, clearly drunk. Kurt entered the room to find that an enormous amount of air freshener had been sprayed and that Sebastian was getting his things to hit the shower.

"Chlamydia's going to look fantastic on you," Kurt fired as he slammed the door behind himself. "I hear it's all the rage this season."

"Really, how long did it take you to come up with that one?" Sebastian looked more visibly irritated by the remark than usual. Seemed like he hadn't had the best hour with this poor guy in particular, for once. Kurt couldn't care any less. But, seeing him somber after sex for once was something; disturbance on the war front, perhaps?

Not so much. Friday morning, Kurt woke up around nine and automatically frowned at the sight of Sebastian across the room as he lounged in bed, with very little else but glasses on, reading. What was it he was always reading? Kurt slipped on his flip-flops and velvety robe, grabbed his shower caddy and left the room to take what was intended to be a somewhat fast shower.

But in the half hour that passed, Sebastian had somehow managed to put another damn sock on it.

"Oh come on, are you serious? Sebastian!"

Kurt stood with wet hair and a tote full of skin care products for forty five minutes garnering judgmental looks and pitiful chuckles from passersby until Sebastian finally opened the door, and James something-or-other shuffled out, giddy and red faced.

"Sorry, bro," he laughed carelessly, zipping his jeans up.

Kurt stalked in half-robed and furious, and Sebastian, shirtless and sweaty, laughed at how disheveled he appeared.

"Just so you know, I hate you," Kurt groaned.

"Just so you know, I hate you too," Sebastian answered.

Sebastian said he had something to do for most of the day on Friday, and Kurt was relieved to see him leave. Kurt wanted to attend the movie night event in the campus center later on in the evening—Blaine was going to be busy with New Directions practice, and besides, he needed to try and get out and meet people-but he completely dreaded the idea of leaving the room unattended for too long. Apparently it was dangerous to ever stop watching his back, and apparently, Sebastian could manifest hook-ups like water benders could the sea.

"He's done it twice already today?" Rachel asked Kurt of his roommate, watching as he hair sprayed his pompadour in his lit, full-sized mirror. This was the first time she'd been to Kurt's dorm room, or the male side of the freshman quad at all. "How does he get so many girls to sleep with him?"

Kurt laughed. "Girls? You do know he's gay, right? Like, the gayest manwhore I think I've ever met."

Rachel laughed, too. "Well, it is true what they say: the hottest ones always are."

"Gross."

The movie was interesting but Kurt could hardly focus on it, what with feeling like he had to go back and anxiously stand guard at his bedpost, to keep Sebastian from starting anymore sock-business. When he got back at around nine, his suspicions were confirmed. He was too late, and this time, the sock over the knob was disgusting. Once white, now grayed and yellowed, it smelled like the month-old fondue Brittany S. Pierce used to use on her webshow.

Now this has to be a joke, Kurt thought, fuming.

This time the man that walked out was older than the others had been, like, twenty years older, and he'd started at the sight of Kurt, ran out of the hall like he was seeing ghosts.

Kurt walked into the room to find Sebastian clad in thin, damp boxers, removing his also-damp sheets from the bed and gathering his laundry to take it down the hall. One of his sheets was barely touching the rim of Kurt's Dior floor rug and it made the vein visible in his forehead pulse. He needed to remember to breathe. Arrhythmias were genetic for the Hummels.

"Seriously, this is just ridiculous, Sebastian," he tried saying calmly. And then: "That sock out there should be classified by the US Food and Drug Administration as deadly toxic waste!"

"Rule doesn't say that the sock can't be used," Sebastian returned, as if he'd written it down somewhere.

"Well y'know, I think we need a new rule," Kurt glowered, his voice almost shaking. He kept wanting to stare at Sebastian's long, long legs, immediately and furiously felt himself blushing at the shine on his muscles that were caught in the light. Gross. "About just how often you can continue to be sleazy. I don't know if at this point you bother to keep count, but I've been locked out by you and your gallivanting at least three times in the last two days, and I—"

"Can't make a rule unless both parties agree," Sebastian interrupted. "Looks like you're still gonna get the short end of this stick, unless I say so."

Kurt silently fumed as Sebastian left the room, trailing his sheets on the floor behind him like a train.

Saturday morning, Kurt almost considered not showering. When Sebastian left for his shower, he thought about throwing a sock up purely for revenge. Instead he shot Sebastian the dirtiest looks he could manage all morning, as the silently two avoided each other, getting ready for the day.

There was a football game on campus that afternoon, and though Kurt cared more about most other things in the world than he did about football, no offense to Finn, Blaine wanted a live viewing of the state game from Kurt's close-up student section seats. Kurt kept Blaine by his side on his iPhone the entire afternoon, and it made him feel better about how awful things had been with Sebastian. It turned out that Rachel absolutely loved Blaine, too much, in fact, and again reinforced to Kurt that the best looking guys were always on the other team.

Kurt couldn't lie about that when it came to his Blaine, whose boyish excitement and big, heaps of joyous brown eyes he still enjoyed just as much even on the screen of his phone. He sometimes thought loved Blaine just as much, if not more, when they were apart. Though having him just a click away, in his pocket at all times, made him feel like they never were really apart anyway.

Kurt was having an astounding afternoon until he realized Sebastian was at the game, too. Kurt went to the restroom on a phone-break with Blaine and saw him standing in a concession line, with "summer Scandals" guy from Wednesday and a beer, objectifying and smiling at the kid like he had the worst of intentions for him. His hands were in the guy's pockets, all over his ass. Kurt panicked internally when he realized Sebastian and the guy were getting ready to go now, and had it not been such a close game, if Blaine wasn't dying to see how it ended, he would've run as fast as he could to the room to intercept his impending fate.

He just about wanted to throw something when he got back to the room hours later, and found himself locked. On the other side of the door he could hear the faint sound of skin-slapping, Scandals boy moaning obscenely. Had Kurt not disliked Sebastian's personality and everything about him to such an extent, he would've been genuinely concerned for the risks to his health for getting that much action. Sheesh.

He read something menial on his phone in the hallway until Sebastian finally let the door open, was walking out with his friend just as Kurt was entering, disregarding Kurt's existence as he quickly left the vicinity.

Kurt took two steps in the room and his jaw almost unhinged. Two condoms, used, and a pair of sticky, dismissed boxers lie on his Dior rug.

"SEBASTIAN!"

Several hours later, Sebastian came back while Kurt was in the middle of his Bio homework, which he'd only just recently calmed down enough to do. On the back of his assignment, he was also writing murder mystery musical plots.

Kurt stared in outrage to find that Sebastian had a visitor who was a completely different guy than the one he'd just been with before. Kurt stood up quickly, his red-hot anger burning in his cheeks as he tried to forget those sounds, he'd heard earlier.

"If you ever, leave any of your trash on this rug that's worth more than your life again," Kurt raged, as Sebastian gave him a vindictive, crooked smile, "I will literally throw everything you own out my window, where it can find happily ever after five stories down."

Sebastian's friend chuckled as Sebastian just stared at Kurt, steady and smug. He licked his lips once, in a way that made Kurt feel on edge. What was a look like that supposed to mean?

"I guess this is your roommate," the friend said from Sebastian's side. "I totally see what you mean."

"Gets worse when he's PMSing," Sebastian said, not taking his eyes off Kurt.

"I am not leaving," Kurt grunted now, crossing his arms over his chest, indignant. "I don't care if you two have to use the bathroom down the hall or a portapotty on the other side of campus—"

"We'll be in the shower," Sebastian informed him. He gave his friend eyes as he quickly removed his own shirt, and then the two of them followed each other out.

It took one more morning of Sebastian somehow hypnotizing James for long enough to lock him out while he showered again, for Kurt to get in his Ford Escape that Sunday and drive away from campus furiously, trying to work through his complicated emotions at Blaine as he went.

"Hi." Kurt was short and terse, when Blaine answered his wireless Bluetooth call.

"Hi, baby. You sound-is everything okay?"

"No."

"No?"

Kurt took a deep breath as he sped onto the freeway, remembering that this was Blaine, and Blaine was everything to him. He didn't deserve for Kurt to be cross with him.

"Sorry, not trying to be a downer. It was just a rough night. Again."

"Sebastian still being Sebastian?"

"Yep."

"How many times has he pulled the whole sock thing?"

"Six? Seven? Nineteen? Ninety-eight? You know it's an appalling amount when I can't even count it." Kurt turned on his signal, changed lanes. "He's left me stranded in the hallway for hours all week, I'm telling you, hours. On Thursday I was so late to my Chem lab, the professor slammed the door in my face!"

"Geez. I knew he was, you know, bad, but. Not this bad."

"You're just lucky you don't live with him."

Blaine was quiet.

"Anyway." Kurt exhaled, picturing Blaine's face, those gold-brown eyes and that comforting smile. "What are your plans for today, beautiful?"

"Nothin' much, really. My dad still hasn't-helped me out, with the car, so. It's not like I could go someplace , if I wanted to."

Kurt pressed his heel down further on the gas pedal.

"Why? What are your plans today?"

"Sit tight," Kurt answered, smiling crookedly. "I'm coming to Lima to pick you up right now."

"Wha—really?" Blaine's shocked tone of voice was one of Kurt's favorites, his heart practically fed off of it. "You're serious?"

"Serious as the fact that I've been driving in your direction for fifteen minutes!"

"Oh, you. You always know exactly what I'm going to need, before I can even say I need it. Are we going somewhere? Should I put on a different shirt, or a bowtie, or-"

"Wear whatever you'd like," Kurt answered. "Just as long as it's not that god awful pink tie with those green suspenders—seriously Blaine, I don't know what you were thinking that day—"

"You took those both away from me, anyway."

"I did, didn't I?"

"Wow, I can't wait to see you. What a way to wake up Sunday morning!"

Kurt couldn't've agreed more.

"Do you need gas money, anything? I know you said you're short on cash for trips to Lima—"

"No no no, put your money away, sugar lips," Kurt assured him. "This will be worth it, I promise."

Two and half hours later, after a car ride of Blaine giving Kurt heart-eyed gazes and Blaine clearly becoming more and more excitedly anxious as to what was in store for him at Kurt's place, Kurt let Blaine into the dorm with his key, and—

Perfect. Sebastian was gone now, just like he had been at this time on Sunday morning last.

Kurt dropped his things on Sebastian's side of the room as Blaine took a look around, probably noting Kurt's extravagant, mauve and maroon-colored side, versus Sebastian's generic, navy-and-black themed side.

"I can't wait 'til I get to live on my own like you," Blaine said, fingers fixing to loosen his bow tie. Kurt smiled, feeling a little tug at his heart as Blaine's eyes hazed over with a twinge of sadness. Maybe a little resentment.

"Just make sure you get a solo room when you go off to college," Kurt said. "You never know what kind of narcissistic maniacal sociopaths they'll set you up with at random. They might even refuse to let you change that."

Blaine chuckled and eyed Kurt carefully as Kurt sat down on his bed, ran his hands in soothing little circles over the comforter.

"I've missed you," Blaine said, walking closer to him.

Kurt had heard him say it every day and every night, but in person, like this, it made him feel breathless.

"I've really missed you too," Kurt answered, softly.

Blaine sat next to Kurt, very close, tangled their fingers together.

"Are we—going to be alone for a while?" Blaine's voice was low, his eyes eager.

"As long as I want us to be," Kurt said.

Blaine learned in, catching Kurt's lips in a light kiss. Kurt kissed him back, ran his tongue across Blaine's lower lip, breath becoming shorter and hand running up his boyfriend's forearm, light to the touch. Blaine glided his fingers across the base of Kurt's neck, his sensitive hairline, and Kurt wasted no time pressing a thumb to Blaine's jaw, angling him just so, so he could slide his tongue across Blaine's, an agonizingly slow drag.

Blaine gravitated closer to Kurt's body, letting Kurt's tongue back in his mouth, sucking on it as it moved in and out of his mouth in a flawless, tempting rhythm.

"Mmh—you—" Blaine whispered as Kurt pulled back a little.

"What?" Kurt left long, wet kisses across Blaine's smooth jaw and then playfully bit the other boy's earlobe. Blaine grasped at Kurt's waist as Kurt inhaled the warm scent that was only Blaine's, as he kissed love from his neck to his collarbones.

"I can't believe I've lasted even three weeks without you," Blaine said.

Kurt moved back up to kiss Blaine's lips hungrily, then grunted, broke contact, and stood up triumphantly from the bed, nearly dashing across the room to Sebastian's side.

Blaine frowned a little as he sat up, eyes trained on his boyfriend's figure. "Kurt, what are you doing?"

"Socks." Kurt growled, nearly throwing Sebastian's sock drawer open. He bundled almost all of them in his arms, about thirty to forty mismatched singles, and practically ran to open the bedroom door. He threw them all out of it furiously and laughed as they landed in heaps on the carpet, littering the space before the door and far beyond it.

When Kurt came back in, face flushed and panting, Blaine looked a little scared, exhilarated.

"Are you—? I haven't seen you this mad since, I'm not even sure."

"Fantastic," said Kurt. "Never been better. He's about to get a taste of his own friggin' medicine."

Kurt threw open his own drawer and grabbed handfuls of neatly paired cashmere socks, throwing bundles at Sebastian's bedspread and desk like he had intent to injure. He then slid the last of them over the knob outside, locked it, then climbed back into his bed, leaning in to bite Blaine's lips, and push him down under him.

Blaine closed his eyes, letting Kurt press his chest into his so that they fell back onto the bed. Blaine shifted to put his head against the pillow and Kurt drove his hips into Blaine's, creating slow friction; their kiss deepened and Blaine gripped Kurt's shoulders to pull their bodies closer. Blaine's hands were grasping and needy, nearly ripping into Kurt's shirt entirely and Kurt marveled at how good Blaine's hips felt against his already, even through thick jeans and thin cotton.

Kurt ran his hands beneath Blaine's shirt as he nipped Blaine's soft neck, fingers trailing over flesh and hip bones. Blaine began to bunch Kurt's shirt up, wringing it over his head and stripping that and his two undershirts; god Blaine looked so eager for Kurt, to feel skin on skin and heat and sweat, and it felt like so long since the summer when they'd practiced this every day.

"Fuck me," Blaine whispered, between Kurt's tongue in his mouth. "Fuck me, Kurt, please."

Kurt broke their kiss and propped himself up, leaving the bed and Blaine's panting body to retrieve lube from nightstand. He applied it to himself and kneeled on the bed again, staring into Blaine's familiarly lust-blown pupils; as Blaine spread his legs Kurt lubed up two of his two fingers, teasing them over Blaine's entrance, and quickly palming his own dick, emitting an eager, choked out sigh. His eyes never left Blaine's as Blaine exhaled and told him, like always,

"You're so gorgeous, Kurt."

His fingers entered Blaine to stretch him as willing moans broke from Blaine's kiss-swollen lips. Blaine tightened around his fingers, legs shaking and back beginning to writhe as Kurt entered a third. Kurt abruptly removed them, used the beads of pre-come dripping from his head to slick up the rest of himself, and leaned his flushed torso over Blaine's, aligning himself and inhaling in anticipation-no condoms needed here, they'd been at this for a while, and knew that they always would be—

He pressed his cock against Blaine's giving entrance, inching in steady and Blaine's eyes clenched shut, his voice made those same, lovely sounds that drove Kurt to temporary insanity. Kurt loved how Blaine always gripped his lower back to pullhim inside even further, to bring their hips even closer. Kurt picked up his pace, feeling Blaine gaze his stomach and warmth blooming in his chest in fluttering bursts, like his heart was on fire.

"I love you," Kurt said breathless as he still pushed in and out of Blaine; Blaine's legs were wrapped around his back and he was so in the moment that he was starting to get heady-dizzy, and everything felt right, everything—this was so worth it, staying in Ohio to be close to Blaine, Blaine would always be safe, warm, and worth it—

"I love you too," Blaine sighed back. "I love you, I love you—"

They came and collapsed into each other. Kurt rested his body on top of Blaine's afterwards, heat burning all around them them, Blaine leaving sweet, breathy kisses on Kurt's sweat-slicked forehead. Kurt stayed put for several quiet, serene minutes, focusing on the sound and feel of Blaine's quick-beating heart.

In a moment, Kurt began to smile and pick himself up, staring down at his boyfriend affectionately.

"What?" Blaine was doing the hearts with his eyes thing again.

"Nothing," Kurt said, running his thumb down Blaine's soft cheek. "Let's get dressed, I wanna give you the grand tour around campus. Okay?"

As Kurt watched Blaine turn his back and redress, he realized he'd almost forgotten the socks just littering his roommate's bed sheets, or who his roommate even was, for that matter. But just then, with three hard, slow knocks on the door, and that voice mumbling something, he remembered.

He made quick, excited eye contact with Blaine.

"Go to that top drawer. I have an idea."

Sebastian had the dorm room door opened for him by Kurt only to have dozens of paisley-ed and argyle-ed socks hurled into his face from Kurt's and Blaine's grubby hands. That wasn't including the socks Seb was currently standing in, very much annoyed, but knowing that he deserved this.

When Kurt and Blaine were done, and high-fived each other, he rolled his eyes, applauded.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Kurt said as Sebastian moved past him through the door. "Was that enough socks for you? Did I get the point across, huh?"

Sebastian was too busy eyeing Blaine for a moment in distant, bitter greeting to answer, and that made Kurt's stomach turn. Blaine was actively trying to ignore his eye contact and doing a bang up job of it.

"I'm not cleaning any of that," Sebastian said to Kurt presently, kicking off his shoes and purposefully, meaningfully, pushing them over to Kurt's Dior rug with his toes. "If your socks get left out there and someone decides that it's a free for all, that's your problem."

"Don't be silly Sebastian," Kurt sang, as Blaine chuckled and made his way towards the door.

"All the ones outside in the hall are your socks."

As Kurt passed Sebastian out the door, Seb's smile fell.

"This isn't over," he said to Kurt's back.

When Blaine turned the corner at the end of the hall, Kurt paused, turning around and snapping, doing a sashay turn as if on the end of a runway, because Sebastian was hanging around outside their doorway, watching them go.

Sebastian definitely still hated that stupid gay face, and like he said, this back and forth was far from over, Kurt would see.

Sebastian was just getting started.