Maybe We Could Find New Ways To Fall Apart.
Chapter three: Dream a little dream
Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I owned Glee, it would air at a much later time and probably on HBO.
Rating – Rating has changed to M, for obvious reasons. There's some gratuitous self-love in this chapter, hint-hint.
A/N: This has got way more reviews and alerts than I thought it would have! I love that you're all enjoying reading this, so thank you! I'm really sorry it took so long to get up, I've been ridiculously busy, and with the craziness of the Olympics and the Jubilee and everything, I've not had the energy to update. I was awake at 5am this morning to go see the Olympic torch, but it was great!
Rating has changed to M, so I'm sorry if that bothers anyone. It's my first time writing anything like this, so please bear with me. Reviews would be amazing, and constructive criticism is welcomed. Please let me know if you spot any grammar mistakes etc. I want to know what you think! Anyway, on with chapter three.
…..
Kurt Hummel couldn't sleep. All at once, he had a million and one thoughts swirling through his brain, and they all seemed to center around his love life. Kurt had once thought that he'd never find anybody; at least not until he graduated high school and moved to New York. Now he had two boys vying for his affections and he had zero idea on how to handle it.
The thought most prominent in his mind was Blaine. Blaine, who had been his rock ever since they met; his best friend, his confidante, and now his loving boyfriend. It would tear Blaine apart to tell him about Sebastian, and he couldn't do that to him. It should be simple, right? Blaine loved him and he loved Blaine, right? So why was this all so hard?
Shaking his head, Kurt tried to rid himself of his doubts, but they were there, staring at him; cold and hard, ironically like a slap in the face. He did love Blaine, didn't he? Of course he did. But the more the slim boy thought about it, the more he tried to hold on to that feeling of the love he felt for his boyfriend, one word kept popping into his mind. Sebastian. How could he feel like this, like he was being torn in two, desperately trying to cling onto Blaine, while his whole body protested?
He's not meant for you. He tried to tell himself. You'll never love him like he needs you to. He's never going to be yours, not the way either of you need. You're not meant for him. You need to let go.
Blaine had kissed him goodbye on his doorstep, ever the gentleman, after driving him home from the Lima Bean that evening. It was sweet, loving, everything his boyfriend was, but it felt wrong, making his stomach clench and forcing him to hold back tears. He had to carry on like nothing was wrong, like his heart didn't beat that little bit faster when he thought of one Sebastian Smythe, like his stomach didn't flutter and his skin didn't tingle as he imagined the taller boy's touch; his kiss, the way their bodies would intertwine perfectly and just fit, as if they were made for one another, two pieces of some cosmic puzzle.
Kurt wondered, as he lay in bed trying to sleep, his mind plagued with thoughts, whether this was how Sebastian felt too, about him. When they are at the Lima Bean earlier in the day, Kurt swore he could feel Sebastian, feel his emotions, knowing exactly how he felt without so much as a glance at him. He wished he know how the boy was feeling right now, if he was lying in bed awake, remembering the euphoria they had felt, from one simple touch (well, a slap if you were being pedantic about it), that had changed everything. He wondered if he had kissed anyone in the last week, whether he had the same reaction as Kurt did when Blaine kissed him.
What would it feel like if Sebastian kissed him?
God, Kurt was screwed.
….
Two hours away in Westerville, the boy in question was also wide awake, laying back in his one hundred percent Egyptian cotton sheets (no expense was spared in the Smythe household), spouting off a similar internal monologue.
I never wanted this. He reminded himself. Never thought I would need this. Need somebody.
Sebastian Smythe didn't rely on anyone. People would only let you down in the end. He chose not to get close to people, because if you were distant, without feeling, you would never get hurt. He would never get hurt again. Relationships were for suckers.
Except now he couldn't get a certain blue-eyed boy out of his head. His heart was doing strange flip-flops and his breathing turned shallow, just picturing the slim fashionista in his mind. How could I ever have insulted the way he dresses. He's beautiful.
But Kurt was still with Blaine. Stupid fucking gel-helmet Anderson. The athletic boy tried to remember why he'd gone after him in the first place, when Kurt was sat beside him, with his impeccable style and sharp wit, giving as good as he got. Oh, I bet he would.
His eyes fluttered shut as he ran his hands down his toned chest, fingers scratching harshly across his nipples, making his back arch off the bed, whimpering in pleasure. He went lower, down past his stomach as he palmed himself over the thin fabric of his boxer shorts. How would he feel if it was Kurt doing this, touching him, making him fall apart in the best way possible? Sliding his hand into his his underwear, he grasped his cock, moving roughly as he imagined how the slimmer boy would sound, would he keen softly, or scream with absolute need? Would he reduce him to a writhing mess on the bed, begging for more?
The feeling was overwhelming.
He couldn't help but think of how Kurt's body would fit with his own, pale skin contrasting against his dark sheets, his hands smoother than his own, gliding over his achingly hard cock eagerly. His fingernails sharper, more manicured, scratching against his skin. Kurt's voice, higher than his own, moaning, screaming as Sebastian drove him wild, their bodies intertwined as one, perfectly imperfect together, just as they were meant to be. Quickening his pace his pace, he twisted his fist over the head of his cock. Moaning with pleasure, his breathing catching in his throat in short, ragged gasps, imagining how Kurt's perfectly tight red lips would look stretched around him, engulfing him in the hot, wet heat of his mouth. How he would stare up at him through long eyelashes, moving faster and hollowing out his cheeks.
Turning his head into his pillow hard to stifle a loud moan of Kurt's name, he clenched his eyes shut tightly, letting himself be taken over in pure need. He came with a shout, all over his chest in one of the most intense orgasms he'd ever had. If anyone would have asked him did he find Kurt Hummel sexy two weeks ago, he would have laughed in their face and told them to fuck off, but now, now things were different.
Sebastian Smythe would do anything in his power to get Kurt Hummel. Starting with their trip to
Scandals that coming Saturday.
Watch out Hummel, I'm about to charm the pants off you.
…..
Saturday
Here goes nothing, Kurt thought, as he dressed in his tightest pair of white skinny jeans (no underwear, of course, he didn't want lines). This was coupled with a dark emerald button down shirt, and his favorite gray waistcoat. worn loose with a few buttons open at the top, showing his pale, flawless skin, and black and white Doc Marten boots. He carefully did the finishing touches on his hair, a final spritz of hairspray to hold it in place.
Blaine was picking him up in fifteen minutes for their "date," Burt and Carole were spending the weekend up in Washington, as the campaign was going strongly, and Sam and Finn were over at Puck's with the guys for a halo marathon. Perfect.
He grabbed his wallet with his fake ID, (seriously, where did Sebastian get that thing? A better question was why Kurt still had it in! It said he was a 38 year old Hawaiian man with a beard), and headed downstairs as he heard the doorbell ring. Opening the door for his boyfriend, he saw that Blaine was dressed in a dark purple polo shirt, complete with a blue bow tie, and navy high waters, hair neatly gelled back as usual. Grinning as he saw Kurt running his gaze down his body, Blaine chuckled softly.
"Are you ready to depart, good sir?"
Kurt laughed quietly; sometimes Blaine was just too dapper for his own good. The shorter boy entangled his hands in Kurt's, interlacing their fingers loosely as they walked towards the car. Since he has driven last time, now it was Blaine's turn. As they neared the car, Kurt realized that Blaine's hand in his felt strange, awkward almost. It had never been like this before.
Opening the passenger side door for his boyfriend, Blaine kissed Kurt sweetly, letting go of his hand and walking around to the driver's side of the car. Blaine's parents had bought him his car for his last birthday, a brand new Ford Mustang, complete with state of the art satellite navigation and stereo system. They set off towards scandals, which was in east Lima, about a twenty minute drive away, Kurt fiddling with the dials on the radio (Blaine always let him pick the station), and settling on one playing top 40 music, much to Blaine's pleasure. As Lady Gaga's "Edge of Glory" sang through the speakers, and awkward air filled the car, neither Blaine nor Kurt knowing what to say. Usually the taller boy dominated the conversation, always having something to say about the latest fashions, or the happenings in glee club, but tonight he didn't want to accidentally mention Sebastian or the way he was feeling, deciding to keep his mouth shut. Surely, if Blaine was going to register changes in Kurt, he would've noticed buy now, after a week and a half.
Meanwhile, Sebastian, who had just arrived at Scandals, flashed his ID at the doorman, and made his way to the bar to order his first drink. He would need it, he thought, spending all night with Kurt and the gel headed hobbit. While he waited, he pondered why he ever was ever attracted to Blaine Anderson. Sipping his beer, but his thoughts soon turned to Kurt. What would he be wearing? He always dressed impeccably, knowing exactly the right clothes for him, and perfecting his outfits carefully without even so much as a hair out of place.
Whatever he was expecting was blown out of the water when he saw the boy enter the bar. His sinfully tight jeans hugged his legs like a second skin, his hair coiffed stylishly with hairspray, instead of the full tub of product Blaine must have used, had he even lookedin the mirror today? Kurt's green shirt showed off his lean arms, and revealed part of the pale, beautiful skin of his chest, and making his cerulean eyes stand out.
In short, Kurt Hummel looked delicious.
The plan? Or, Plan K, as Seb liked to call it: Get Kurt to see he was a decent guy and leave his stupid hobbit boyfriend. Shouldn't been too hard...right?
