I am still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that I have over 200 alerts for this story. The fact that there are that many people who want to get an email when I update is just mind-blowing. I just cannot express how happy it makes me, that you all are liking this story so much.
Just a reminder about the "Not Klaine/Blaine Friendly" warning on this fic. It really applies for this chapter.
Three weeks, thought Sebastian, looking down at his paycheck stub. Three fucking weeks, and he wasn't anywhere near to paying off his debt to his parents. The eight hundred and sixteen dollars that the fines had totaled would have been doable in a couple of months, tops, but the interest had him continuously going one step backwards for every two he took forward. Greg was giving him nearly full time hours, but it wasn't nearly as much money as Sebastian had worked out in his head upon taking the minimum wage job. He'd never realized how much got taken out of a paycheck, how many things you were forced to pay into when you had a job. Social fucking Security? He was seventeen, what the hell did he need to worry about that for? Medicare? His dad had perfectly good health insurance for him! By the time they took all that shit out, along with State and Federal taxes (and only now did he understand why adults seemed to always be bitching about taxes, hoo boy did he ever), his paycheck was substantially less than he'd figured.
Plus, since his allowance was cut off, he had to pay for anything he wanted out of his check. His dad had canceled the credit card that Sebastian's iTunes account had been hooked up to, forcing him to buy gift cards with cash to keep up his music collection. His dad had made him give back the gas card that he normally filled up his car with, too. Sebastian had never even really looked at how much gas cost per gallon, and he now found himself in the humiliating position of going to three different gas stations to find which one had the cheapest fuel. He got to eat and drink for free at work, but if Jeff and Nick called wanting to go out for pizza, he had to pay his own way. Why was everything so expensive, and why had he never noticed before?
The only thing he was saving money on by working was the expense of bar-hopping and clubbing. His fake ID had been confiscated, and he didn't have the money to get another decent one made. Plus, if he got caught out drinking again, his parents would probably cut him off for the rest of his life. But even if he'd wanted to take the chance, he was too tired to want to go out much anyway. He was in good shape and used to physical activity, but somehow carrying cases of coffee, standing at a register for hours, and dealing with pain in the ass customers was way more exhausting than playing lacrosse and rehearsing choreography. It was draining, and most nights he was in bed embarrassingly early. The one thing he really did miss though, was getting laid. Sebastian didn't keep phone numbers or contact information from any of his hookups, so without the bars to cull random fucks from, he was having the kind of dry spell he hadn't experienced since he'd lost his virginity two years ago. He didn't screw anyone he went to school with (you don't shit where you eat was his motto), and apparently, trying to score with customers was somewhat frowned upon. Which was a shame, because he'd been passed more than one business card or phone number along with cash or a debit card since he'd started. Mostly from girls and women, but there had been a couple of guys that seemed interested in a little more from Sebatian than a large mocha and their change. And sadly, it seemed that there was only one other Lima Bean employee that played for his team, who also happened to be the last guy on Earth Sebastian wanted to fuck.
Speaking of which, he needed to get back out to the counter to finish off his shift with Kurt. Over the past three weeks they'd worked several times together, and had learned to tolerate each other's presence fairly well. From a practical perspective, Sebastian didn't mind working with Kurt, because he was a hard worker and did more than his fair share. The other employees, including Sebastian, tended to slack off when and where they could, but Kurt was always doing something. Even when it was slow, he'd wipe out the bakery case, or sweep the dining room floor. Part of Sebastian figured it must be Kurt's common, blue collar roots surfacing. But it also just seemed like Kurt needed to be in perpetual motion to keep some troubling thoughts at bay. The few times Sebastian had caught him lost in thought, the expression on his face was rarely a happy one.
Sebastian relieved Greg at the register; now that he was fully trained, he worked a regular two person shift, with Greg jumping in to help when things got busy. Kurt, frothing half and half for a cafe breve, nodded at him briefly to acknowledge the switch. Sebastian waited on the next person in line, a young girl with a purple streak in her hair, who barely looked up from her phone to mumble out her order for a medium iced white raspberry mocha. When he handed Kurt her cup, their fingers brushed accidentally, which occasionally happened. They had both learned not to cringe away from each other in distaste, as it would result in strange looks from Greg and their other co-workers. The warmth of Kurt's fingers seemed to linger on Sebastian's skin, and he almost groaned audibly at the thought of being so hard up for physical contact, the unintentional caress had even the smallest effect on him.
He did have to admit that after spending so much time in close quarters with Kurt, the little brat wasn't quite as hideous as he'd once thought. The strange features seemed to somehow work together on Kurt's face, at least, once he got used to them. And whereas before he'd always found Kurt's skin to be unappealingly bare and baby-smooth, working next to him he was able to notice the light flocking of hair on his forearms, and the slight stubble that would sometimes show up on his chin if he hadn't shaved recently. Combined with the trim build of muscle on his frame, it was a little more difficult to write Kurt off as a girl or an infant, as he had in the past. Frequent proximity and frustrating celibacy were conspiring to make Sebastian occasionally think that if Kurt wasn't Kurt, the notion of bending him over the nearest flat surface for a nice hard dicking wouldn't be entirely out of the question. But no way was he desperate enough to try prying open Kurt Hummel's iron-clad chastity belt.
"Crap," he heard Kurt mutter next to him, startling him out of his reverie. He heaved a sigh. "Can you switch with me and do drinks for the next few customers?"
"Why?" asked Sebastian. It was the first time anyone had asked him to switch over out of the blue like that.
Kurt lowered his voice to a whisper, jerking his head a little to indicate the line. "You see that older woman, in the red floral skirt?" he asked.
"Yeah?" answered Sebastian. The woman grey haired woman in question was looking straight ahead at the back of the person in front of her, not looking at either the menu or the counter.
"She doesn't like me to make her drink," Kurt said, slipping around Sebastian's back and over to the register. He took the next customer's order, apologizing for the delay,
"What'd you do?" asked Sebastian quietly when Kurt handed the cup over. He eyed the woman's stocky build. "Give her a low-fat beverage by mistake? The horror."
"Um, no," said Kurt, flushing a little.
Sebastian was confused. It wasn't like Kurt to be uncomfortable with the customers. In fact, most of the time he seemed to really enjoy greeting regulars by name, asking after their pets or children, or suggesting a new drink or pastry being offered. He looked at Kurt questioningly. It was so unusual to see Kurt distressed over work, he somehow found himself concerned. He looked over at the line, which only had three people in it, ending with the skirted woman. Sebastian stepped over to the register. "Sorry," he said to the next person in line. "It'll just be a moment. I need my colleague's help with something. He'll be right with you." He ignored Kurt's muffled protests, dragging him over by the empty lunch prep counter. "What's her problem, Kurt?"
"Sebastian, you can't ignore the customers," Kurt said heatedly. When Sebastian simply folded his arms and refused to budge, he caved, just wanting to get the line moving again before people started complaining. "She doesn't want me to make her drink because I'm gay," he admitted.
"What?" said Sebastian, a little too loudly. Kurt shushed him, so he said more quietly, "Did she come right out and say that? And how does she even know you're gay?"
"No, not outright," Kurt answered. "But she looks at me like I'm disgusting. And once she was here with a friend, and I overheard her say something about it being a disgrace that someone with a son like me was representing decent people Congress." There was a flash of hurt in Kurt's eyes at that, as if what people thought of his father was more hurtful than what they thought of him. "Besides," he said, eyes going cold, "I've got that gay face, remember?"
Sebastian felt a strange pang of regret at Kurt's words. "What the hell does you being gay have to do with making her coffee, anyway?" he said, deflecting.
"She probably thinks I'll give her AIDS or something," Kurt said dismissively, like it didn't even matter. "She's not thrilled to have me take her order and cash her out, either, but she always uses a debit card, and doesn't have to touch anything that I have except for the cup."
"You should tell Greg," Sebastian said, knowing instinctively that Kurt never had. "He would never put up with someone treating you like that. Any of us, really, but especially not you."
"I don't want Greg to have to deal with it," Kurt said. "And I don't want him to lose business, even from homophobes." He looked over Sebastian's shoulder at the line, where one more person had added themselves to the queue. "Are we done here? Just make the damn drinks until she's gone, Sebastian." He started to walk back to the register, but Sebastian grabbed his arm. "What now?" he asked peevishly.
"But Kurt," Sebastian said. "I'm gay too."
In spite of himself, Kurt laughed. Sebastian had said it as if his sexuality had only just occurred to him. "She doesn't know that, and I doubt she'd suspect it, either. You're like Blaine," he said, eyes darting away. "You can pass, without much effort even."
Sebastian felt the regret swell up again, a little stronger this time. "Kurt," he started, not really knowing what was going to come out next.
"Can we please just go back to work?" said Kurt. Turning on his heel, he walked back to the register, apologizing again for the delay and announcing a ten percent discount to everyone already in line for the inconvenience. Sebastian watched out of the corner of his eye when it was the difficult customer's turn. As Kurt had said, she looked down her nose at him, as if he were a dirty piece of gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe. She gave her order tersely and then looked away, as if the sight of Kurt inking her iced coffee order on the plastic cup was too painful for her to watch. Kurt acted as if he didn't even notice, smiling and thanking her for her order, asking her to come back again.
It pissed Sebastian off. He'd been sheltered from a great deal of homophobia, because even if there were people in his parent's social circle who had a problem with homosexuality (and he bet there were), there was a polite agreement that Such Things We Not Discussed in Polite Company. Sebastian's family had always been supportive of him; he'd never even had a coming out, per se. He just knew he liked boys from a very early age, and it was always treated as a complete non-issue in his house. Every school he'd ever attended had been like Dalton, posh and structured, with strict anti-bullying policies and a fair number of openly gay students. And of course, there was what Kurt had brought up himself, that most people didn't even suspect that a tall, athletic boy with no effeminate qualities to speak of was gay. It was rare for Sebastian to even mention it in conversation, unless the subject of dating or sex came up. Who did that ugly old cow think she was, to treat someone like garbage because of who or what they liked to stick their cock in? Sebastianwas far superior to her, thank you very much, not the other way around.
Cashed out, the woman came to stand by the small pick-up shelf. Unlike with Kurt, she made eye contact with and smiled at Sebastian. He didn't return it, and she looked away, as if unsure what his problem was. He capped her drink with a clear plastic lid, reaching for a paper-wrapped straw. He found it ironic that she was more comfortable having Sebastian make her drink as opposed to Kurt, if her thoroughly ignorant concern about disease was indeed behind that. While both boys were gay and sexually active, Sebastian knew he'd had a lot more sex than Kurt, and not all of it as safe as it could have been. However, despite Kurt's insinuations, he'd never actually gotten an STD, and the HIV test he'd had after a particularly wild weekend (with multiple partners and way too many poppers for him to be sure he'd been careful enough) had been negative. I almost wish I did have something nasty I could possibly pass along to you, bitch, he thought. Then a thought occurred to him, and he finally found something to smile about.
He dropped the woman's straw on the floor. "Oops," he said, this time flashing her a bashful grin and a wink. She colored, the moron, preening under his flirtatiousness. Sinking to his knees to pick up the straw, he quickly popped the lid on her drink, worked his tongue and cheeks a few times, then spit the resulting saliva into her coffee. He replaced the cap and stood up. "Let me get you a new straw," he said, smiling brightly with as many perfectly white, straight teeth displayed as he could manage. "I'll just throw this dirty one away. But here's your drink," he said, holding out the cup. "I hope you enjoy it."
There was a blur of movement, and a shout that sounded like his name. The next thing Sebastian knew the cup had been slapped out of his hand, drenching his front with ice cold coffee. He turned in shock, barely able to keep the Fuck! that wanted to escape his mouth from coming out. Kurt was standing there, brown liquid soaking into his polo shirt as well, blue eyes wide. Sebastian could hear the woman who had just seen her large ice coffee ruined yelling, and he just managed to resist turning around and telling her to shut the fuck up. Kurt and Sebastian stared at each other, cold coffee dripping onto their pants and shoes. She had to order the twenty ounce size, he thought. Largest fucking cup of coffee we have on the menu.
"What's going on here?" Greg bustled up to the counter. "You guys are a mess! What happened?"
"Your idiot barista just dumped my coffee all over this nice young man," she said angrily.
"Please don't call my employees idiots, ma'am," Greg said. "Kurt, Sebastian? Someone want to tell me what happened?"
Kurt's mind raced. He had just finished cashing out the last person in line, when he turned to deliver their cup to Sebastian. Who inexplicably was crouching on the floor, spitting into someone's coffee. It took him a minute to even believe his eyes, when he saw Sebastian hand the cup over to a customer, that woman with the…issues, smiling away like he hadn't just spit in her coffee. Running on pure instinct, he'd smacked the cup out of the customer's way, dousing both Sebastian and himself. He didn't know what to say to Greg; he only knew if he said what Sebastian had done, the other boy would be fired immediately. Sebastian was looking at Kurt, and pretty much the whole coffee house was staring with open mouths at the spectacle his shift had become.
"It was my fault," said Kurt, thinking quickly. "I…uh, thought I got her order wrong, and I was just trying to catch Sebastian before he gave it to her. I got a little carried away, and knocked into him much harder than I intended. I'm so sorry, Greg."
"It's okay, Kurt," said Greg, looking relieved. "You guys go clean up, grab a couple of clean shirts from the office." He turned to the woman, who was still glaring at Kurt with murderous eyes. "I'm very sorry, ma'am," he said. "I'll refund your money, and get you another coffee right away. I'll also give you a couple of free drink coupons for your trouble. I really apologize."
While the customer huffed, acting as put out as if the coffee had been dumped on her, Sebastian just stood there and gaped at Kurt. Kurt rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's get some fresh shirts," he said, taking Sebastian's wrist and tugging him along to the office. Once in Greg's tiny office, Kurt dropped Sebastian's wrist and spun around. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he said. "What would ever possess you to spit in that drink?"
"She's a bitch," Sebastian pointed out, as if the answer should have been obvious.
Kurt goggled in disbelief. "Well, no shit," he said. "It doesn't matter how horrible she is. You can't spit in someone's drink, Sebastian. Not ever." He could absolutely not believe Sebastian needed to be specifically instructed that it was not an acceptable thing to do.
"Why not?" asked Sebastian. "She deserved it. She shouldn't get away with treating you like that, just because you like dick."
Kurt didn't know which he was having a harder time absorbing; that Sebastian still didn't seem to think he'd done anything wrong, or that he'd done what he did because someone had treated Kurt badly. Both were beyond his grasp, but only one was a practical matter, so he addressed that. "I'm not saying what she did was okay," he said. "Or that I wouldn't enjoy it if she accidentally tripped and fell on her ass on the way out of the shop or something. But you can't intentionally cause harm to customers, no matter what they say or do."
"How was I harming her?" Sebastian said, shrugging. "She wouldn't even know about it, and it's not like I can actually make her sick from it."
"Oh my God, are you really that clueless about basic human decency?" asked Kurt, stunned. "You don't put your body fluids into another person without their permission. Jesus!" He threw up his hands, going into the small cabinet where he knew Greg kept the uniform supply. He grabbed out two shirts, tossing one at Sebastian. "Besides, it's just gross. And what if you'd been caught? Do you know what would happen if word got around that we spit in people's coffee? I know you don't care about anyone except yourself, but this place is Greg's whole life, and some of us actually need our jobs here. What you did could cause a health department investigation, and wouldn't that be great for business?" It had been a long time since Kurt had really let his temper fly, and he was a little startled at how good it felt to blow up at someone for a change.
"All right, all right," groused Sebastian. He whipped off his wet shirt. "Calm down before you bring your period on."
"Shut up," said Kurt, trying very hard not to notice what an impressive chest Sebastian had. What seemed like acres of golden skin stretched over rippled taut muscles, and there was a scattering of disturbingly lickable dark freckles across it.
"Look, whatever," said Sebastian, apparently in no hurry to change into the other shirt. "It just pissed me off, okay? I get it, I won't do it again."
"You'd better not," said Kurt. "The only reason you still have a job is because I covered for you out there. I won't do that again." He took his own shirt off, no longer able to stand the clammy wetness clinging to his skin. Sebastian was probably going to make some rude comment about how pale and girly he was, but really, he just did not give a crap. Kurt just wanted to finish off his shift and get home. Blaine was supposed to be meeting him there for a Gene Kelly movie marathon, and hopefully a brisk mutual hand job. It had been nearly a month since they had been intimate with each other, his work and both of their moodiness seeming to always get in the way. Neither he nor Blaine were that highly sexed, which most of the time Kurt was grateful for. He knew from his friends that vastly different libidos could cause big problems in a relationship. But even without the incessant sex drive of the usual teenage boy, Kurt did get frustrated and needy after more than thirty days in a row with nothing but his own hand to get him off.
When Sebastian didn't say anything insulting, he looked up from where he was putting his arm into the new, clean polo. Instead of sneering at the pallid planes of his chest, Sebastian looked…well, very surprised. And there was a hot spark in his eyes, that Kurt was shocked to recognize as want. It was faint, but it was there, unmistakably. Kurt flushed, feeling his pulse get a little faster. No one ever checked him out, other than Blaine early on in their relationship, and even those looks had been more adoring than aroused. There was Chandler, of course, who had made no secret of his interest; but his flirting has been more playful, almost puppy-dog like. Sebastian looked…serious. Hungry.
To say that Kurt didn't look anything shirtless like Sebastian had expected would have been a rather large understatement. He knew from how Kurt filled out his shirts that the other boy couldn't be too soft or doughy, but he hadn't suspected how firm and toned he was in reality. Instead of pink, feminine nipples, Kurt's were medium-sized and café au lait colored. And he had body hair. Not a lot of chest hair, just a few fine wisps in the center of his chest. But when Kurt had raised his arms to lift off his shirt, Sebastian saw the silky dark hair of his underarms, and the neat ebony treasure trail that started under the shallow cup of his navel, then disappeared into the waistband of his pants. Starved for the sight of beautiful, warm boy flesh within touching distance, Sebastian forgot for a moment who he was ogling, and just admired the sight. There was really nothing not to like, and his fingers itched to make contact.
The air between them was charged and heavy, and Kurt felt vague pulling sensation, like he was a piece of debris that had floated into Sebastian's orbit. He realized he was tempted to reach out, to test the muscles of Sebastian's amazing abs and see it they were as hard and unforgiving as they looked with his fingers. The thought was so shocking, so forbidden, that he could just brush his fingers against skin and sinew that didn't belong to his boyfriend, he sucked in a breath at it. And at the sound of that soft gasp, the spell between them was instantly broken.
Both boys turned away from each other quickly, donning their shirts. They could hear the rasp of each other's zippers as they tucked their polos neatly into their pants, and it only seemed to add to the awkwardness. Hazarding a glance at Kurt, Sebastian saw that while he was once again completely clothed, there was a faint blush riding high on his cheekbones, and his normally perfect hair was mussed. Sebastian himself felt uncomfortably warm and kind of off-center. Getting a little turned on by someone he'd written off as grotesque months ago was a new experience for him. Kurt looked at him briefly before lowering his eyes to the floor. Sebastian felt like he needed to say something, but wasn't sure what. He took a breath, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. "I won't do anything like that again," he repeated, this time feeling a lot more sincere about it. "It seemed like a good idea at the time, and I still think she deserved it. But I get what you're saying. It won't happen again." He paused. "I don't really run into that kind of thing very often, so I guess I don't know how to deal with it. Sometimes I forget what assholes people can be about the gay thing. I guess I should know better, though, after what happened to Dave Karofsky."
Kurt's head whipped up, his eyes wide and for some strange reason, with guilt in their depths. He looked like he was going to respond, but instead just pressed his lips closed and nodded in silent agreement.
"How's he doing, anyway?" asked Sebastian, realizing he was genuinely curious. Dave had never again returned to Scandals, removing himself from Sebastian's radar screen entirely.
"What makes you think I would know?" said Kurt, looking away again.
"I went to see him in the hospital," Sebastian said. "I didn't know the guy hardly at all, but it seemed like the thing to do. I'm not much in the hand-holding department, and it was all really weird. He told me not to worry about it, or feel like I had to be concerned. He said what I said to him was just a drop in the bucket, and that it didn't matter anyway, because you were going to help him. He was going to be fine, so I could leave with a clear conscience, if that was what I was after. And basically, I guess it was, so I did. I haven't seen or heard of him since, so I just wondered."
Kurt closed his eyes, feeling a ball of shame well up in his chest. "I don't know how he's doing," he admitted. "I haven't spoken to him for a long time."
"Did something happen?" asked Sebastian. "Did he like, freak out on you or something?"
"No," Kurt said. "I just…I never helped him, like I said I would. I didn't follow through." Kurt had never really talked about it before, about how badly he'd dropped the ball with David. Only a few people even knew he'd even made the offer. And when he did try to talk to Blaine or his dad about it, they both brushed it off, insisting that Kurt shouldn't have felt obligated in the first place. "Right after, Quinn got into a terrible car accident, and was paralyzed. It was temporary, but we didn't know that at the time. And after that, everything got really crazy." Kurt knew all he had were excuses, and lame ones at that in retrospect. But it helped that ball loosen in his chest a little, getting it all out. Admitting, like at a confessional, what he'd put ahead of helping David. "Finn and Rachel postponed their wedding, and there was drama over that. We were prepping for NYADA as often as we could, rehearsing again and again until we were hoarse. And there was stuff with Blaine too. His brother showed up, and they didn't get along very well. Prom was in there too, with me worried that I'd be humiliated again, and some people boycotting the whole thing. The head of the prom committee banned hair gel, which almost gave Blaine a nervous breakdown." He risked a look at Sebastian, who seemed rather neutral in the face of Kurt's ramblings.
"I did think about it, but there always seemed to be something else to do. And then after graduation, when everything had settled down, and I didn't get into NYADA, I realized that weeks and weeks had passed and I'd never sent David so much as a text. So I called him and left a voice mail message, asking if we could get together for coffee or something, and catch up."
"So what, he never got back to you?" asked Sebastian.
"He didn't call me back," said Kurt. "But he did send me an email. He said that he didn't think it was a very good idea for us to see each other; at least, not now. He said he'd talked to his therapist about it, and she was concerned. It wouldn't have been a problem if I'd gotten in touch with him earlier, but he'd made a lot of progress, and the therapist was worried that me coming into the picture all this time later might cause some kind of setback, or regression." Kurt swallowed, the sting from reading those words on his laptop screen still present. "David said he didn't know if he agreed with her, but that he was going to take her advice. He didn't want me to feel bad, or be offended. But he said she had helped him to realize that he had to take care of himself first, because no one else was going to."
"Well, he's right about that," said Sebastian mildly. "I mean, it was shitty of you to make a promise like that and then disappear. But the world is full of shitty people doing shitty things to each other. If he's ever going to really be okay, he needs to figure out how to handle that without, you know, doing anything drastic."
"That's not the point," said Kurt, tears rising to eyes. "I shouldn't have been so selfish, so self-involved. I'm sorry that I left him in the lurch, with people he thought were his friends harassing him, and a mother who believed, maybe still believes, that he needs to be cured instead of loved and supported. I have a whole lot of regrets about the past year, Sebastian," Kurt said, choking up. "But that's one of my biggest ones."
"Your regret doesn't really have anything to do with him," Sebastian pointed out. He'd never been a fan of self-reproach, personally. "He's getting his shit together. Seems like that's the important thing. Maybe one of these days he'll want to sit down with you, and you can have a go at telling him how sorry you are for as long as you want. But until then, martyring yourself over it doesn't seem to be doing anything except helping you throw yourself a lame, depressing pity party that's a lot more about you than him. Seems like kind of a waste of energy to me." Sebastian shrugged, glad that the discussion had shaken off his peculiar feelings about the state of Kurt's body and emotions. "We should get back out there," he said.
Kurt stared as Sebastian sauntered out the door. His feelings were no less confused; in fact, after the whole shirtless thing, he was pretty sure things might be even more confusing. But Kurt knew Sebastian was right about one thing, that it was time to go out there and do his job. He could sort it all out later, maybe even try to talk to about it Blaine again. He could explain to him that he didn't need someone to tell him none of it was his fault, he just needed someone to listen to him. Squaring his shoulders, Kurt left the office, not wanting to be far behind Sebastian in case Greg noticed.
Three hours later, Kurt was finished with his shift and ready to go home. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and when he was safely stopped at a red light, he took it out and glanced at it. It was a text from Blaine. At your house. Finn let me in but left. Text me when you're on your way. He put the phone down as soon as the light turned green, continuing the trip to his house. His parents were in DC, and Finn was gone. The hand job was looking even more likely, and if Finn was going to be out for most of the night, they could even do more. Kurt's blood started to hum, as he pictured them actually taking the time to undress completely, to touch and taste each other's bare skin, to make as much noise as they wanted to. He couldn't even remember the last time they'd done that, and he found himself suddenly, unbearably excited. Kurt thought the lick of desire he'd felt in Greg's office with Sebastian had been extinguished, but apparently it had only been banked, flaring up again even brighter and stronger as he approached his house.
Kurt pulled into the driveway, feeling like he wanted this time between him and Blaine to be different, maybe a little more exciting or unexpected. Maybe he wouldn't text Blaine back, maybe he'd just sneak into the house and throw open his bedroom door, tackle his boyfriend into the bedsheets and ravish him. Spontaneous, Kurt thought. Just like he wanted that night at Scandals. Wanting to make sure Blaine was really, truly surprised, he picked up his phone and quickly replied to Blaine's text. Just leaving work now. Sorry to be late. Please stay right where you are, I miss you. Stowing his phone in his pocket, he grinned, flipping down the mirrored visor and tousling his hair artfully. This way, even if Blaine heard the faint noises of Kurt sneaking up the stairs, he'd dismiss them as the house settling or something.
I'll give you spontaneous, Blaine, he thought heatedly. I'll give you the surprise of your life, my love.
Kurt entered his house as quietly as he could, holding his breath as he ascended the staircase. He crept down the hall to his door, grasping the knob and twisting is as slowly as he could. When it would turn no further, he edged the door open, his heart racing and the extra blood pumping south to firm his dick. He felt hot and predatory, and was absolutely convinced he and Blaine were in for the best sex of their entire relationship.
But when the door was fully opened, and he saw what his boyfriend was doing, it was like he'd been doused with a bucket of cold water. The beginnings of his erection died instantly, and lust was replaced with betrayal so quickly it was physically painful. Instead of the sultry greeting he'd been planning, a broken query slipped uncontrollably from his lips. "What are you doing, Blaine?" he asked, in a trembling voice, unable to believe his eyes for the second time that day.
Blaine jumped a mile and slapped the lid of Kurt's laptop down, but it was too late. Kurt had already seen the evidence all too clearly, since Blaine had been sitting on the bed with his back to the door, the computer screen revealing all. While Kurt had been creeping upstairs and easing open his bedroom door with the greatest of care, Blaine had apparently been busily scrolling through the browser history on Kurt's laptop.
Blaine sat frozen, his upper half twisted around to face Kurt. "What are you doing here?" he said, obviously panicked. "You just said you were leaving work a couple of minutes ago!"
Kurt ignored his question. He had a horrible sense of déjà vu, back to the time when he'd come into his room to see Blaine going through his phone. "You first," he said, angrily. "What were you doing on my computer?" When Blaine opened his mouth to answer, Kurt cut him off. "You know what? Don't bother. I saw what you were doing, I have eyes and I'm not stupid. You were snooping through the history!" His eyes narrowed. "Why?"
For a moment, Blaine looked ashamed. But then he seemed to shake it off, standing up and tossing the laptop onto the bed. He looked back at Kurt, his entire posture becoming stiff and defensive. "Maybe because I feel like there's things you're not telling me?" he flung out. "Things that maybe the person you've been dating for a year and a half ought to know? The person you say you love?" He pointed at the laptop. "You've been looking at colleges again, Kurt. Out of state ones. You said you just wanted to try community college here in Lima, but you've been googling four-year schools all over the country!"
Kurt was shocked. Blaine being upset over another guy texting him was understandable. After all, he hadn't exactly tried to hide his delighted reactions to Chandler's texts in Blaine's presence. In what was hardly his finest hour, he'd wanted his boyfriend to be jealous, to suspect that someone else wanted him. But this was a whole other level of invasiveness. Every Lifetime Movie he'd ever watched flashed through his mind. Controlling. The voice in his head was back, but this time instead of scaring Kurt, it comforted him. Even if it was just imaginary, even if he was going nuts, it made him feel less alone and vulnerable in this terrible situation. It's controlling, and it's not okay. "Are you saying I have to report everything I look at on the internet to you?" he asked.
"Of course not!" said Blaine, as if the idea were ridiculous. "I'm talking about what's in your head, Kurt. I should know if you're thinking about moving away for school again, you know."
Kurt listened to the words, feeling sick. Not only because of what Blaine was saying, but because there was a part of him wanting to leap up and apologize, to beg forgiveness for keeping Blaine in the dark. But another part of him, one that was getting stronger by the day, blocked the weakness with little effort. Kurt was tired of always backing down, and always taking the blame. It had gotten him nowhere, and made both him and Blaine unhappy in the long run. Things needed to change, and it looked like, terrifying or not, this was the moment to finally do it.
"Just because you're my boyfriend, it doesn't mean I have to tell you everything I'm thinking," said Kurt, amazed at how calm he was. It was like someone else was speaking for him, and he was just watching from the sidelines, in awe of their confidence. "Even in a relationship, people deserve privacy. You violated that tonight, Blaine. And it's not the first time."
Blaine gasped, outrage streaming from every pore. "Can you blame me?" he said, voice rising to just short of a yell. "This isn't some small thing, any more than the cheating was. Shouldn't you want to tell me if you're thinking about leaving me again?"
"You're right, I should have wanted to tell you that," Kurt agreed. Blaine's tension decreased visibly. He's expecting me to say I was wrong, thought Kurt. He's waiting for an apology. Despite our problems, I really do know you too well, Blaine. "But I think that's the problem, really. I should have wanted to tell the person I love, and who loves me, that I'm starting to let myself dream again. But I didn't want you to know that about me."
Blaine's eyes widened with surprise and hurt. "But why?" he asked, much more quietly than before. He seemed so honestly puzzled, it made Kurt's heart clench with emotion.
"Because I didn't want it to start all over again," Kurt answered, honestly. "You being mad that I'm happy about something that takes me away from you, and me resenting that you can't be happy for me unconditionally. We haven't been the best together this summer as it is, and I knew bringing that back into the mix was hardly going to help. That's why I didn't tell you."
Blaine just stood there, and Kurt could tell he was at a loss as to what to say or do. Conversations like this were not a frequent occurrence in their relationship. Kurt said nothing, letting his words sink in, and counting the moments until, predictably, Blaine went into back-pedal mode. "Okay," he said gently, coming closer to Kurt for the first time since the fight started. "It's okay, I understand. I just love you so much, Kurt, it kills me to think of being without you. We'll be all right, though." He smiled softly. "We always are."
Kurt took Blaine's hand, tears beginning to burn his eyes. "No, Blaine," he said. "We won't. We won't be okay if we just keep glossing over things and pretending everything is fine. It's not fine, and it hasn't been for a long time." Kurt took a deep breath, tightening his grip on Blaine's hand. "The last time we tried to get things out in the open, we managed to do it, but we never worked through any of those things, not really. And they haven't gone anywhere, because we didn't. I still hate feeling like I'm playing second fiddle to you all the time. I resent that you got more solos than me, even though you had another year in glee club and this was my last chance. It made me angry that you talked to Sebastian behind my back, and that you never told him to shove it when he insulted me right in front of you."
Blaine pulled his hand away. "I told you, those conversations were-"
"Family friendly, I remember," Kurt said. "Blaine, I've been working with Sebastian for nearly a month. If he's capable of having a family friendly conversation in private, it's news to me."
"So this is all my fault?" said Blaine, starting to tear up. "I've been a terrible boyfriend to you, is that it?"
"No," said Kurt. "We're both in this, and we've both screwed up. I shouldn't have pressured you into transferring, and I should have realized you were only doing it for me, no matter what you said. I just wanted to spend this past year with you so much, I didn't really think about what was best for you. But most of all, I shouldn't have let us get into the habit of avoiding problems when they came up. I had every chance to tell you when I was upset, or unhappy, and I didn't. I talked to Rachel, Finn, Mercedes…everyone but the one person I should have been talking to. You deserved a chance to explain yourself, but instead I shoved it all down inside of me almost every time. I shouldn't have been so afraid that talking about the bad things would make us break up. I should have had more faith in you than that. More faith in us."
He could see that Blaine now knew where this was going, and tears began to drip down both of their cheeks. "Please Kurt," he said. "Don't do this. We could fix things."
"If we'd had this conversation a long time ago, maybe," said Kurt. "But we spent the whole school year putting being in a relationship ahead of the actual relationship itself. And even though I love you, Blaine, I really, really do…when I think about not being together with you anymore, what scares me the most is being alone. Not so much being without you, but being single again. And I think if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit you feel the same way about me."
"No," said Blaine, backing away as shaking his head. "This is you, Kurt." Kurt's heart broke; he had hoped that Blaine would have been aware enough to see what was happening between them, but the denial they'd both clung to for so long obviously still had a strong hold on him. "This is you, breaking us up. Don't you dare try to put this on me! I don't want to break up with you, I don't want this!" Blaine was openly crying now, gasping with sobs.
"I know," said Kurt, trying to keep his own weeping at bay, trying to be the strong one in the face of Blaine's devastation. "But we keep hurting each other, and we're going to keep hurting each other. It's not good for either of us."
"I don't care!" cried Blaine.
But he should, thought Kurt, not saying the words aloud because he knew Blaine wasn't in a place where he would hear them. He should care about himself more than that, and me too. The fact that he doesn't…well, it's just more proof I'm doing the right thing, ending it. Even though it feels like the most horrible thing I've ever done to another person. "I'm sorry, Blaine," he said, knowing how inadequate it was. He'd never meant to cause another person so much pain, and to do it to someone he'd been in love with so deeply, someone he'd given his heart and body to and had given their own to him in turn, was crushing.
"Fuck your sorry!" screamed Blaine. He actually screamed it, and Kurt was filled with anguish to see Blaine lose control so uncharacteristically. "Fuck your sorry, and fuck you, Kurt!" He pushed Kurt out of the way roughly, bounding past him towards the stairs. Kurt made no move to restrain him, and a moment later, he heard the front door slam.
Kurt crawled into his bed, fully clothed. He indulged himself in a good ten minute cry, hoping that maybe now that he'd been able to break things off with Blaine, such jags might become less frequent. He supposed that he could have called Mercedes or Tina to come over for ice cream and sympathy, but he found that he'd really rather just spend the evening alone, quietly mourning the loss of his first boyfriend and lover. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he winced as he drew it out, hoping like hell it wasn't from Blaine. It wasn't.
Can you switch shifts with me on Saturday? Sebastian's text read. Going out after work Friday night. Don't want to work the morning shift the next day.
OK Kurt typed back. It would mean having to work Friday night and then Saturday morning two weeks in a row, something that Greg tried to rotate among the employees. But knowing that he didn't have to worry about not being able to get together with Blaine after work, he'd be able to get plenty of rest for the quick turnaround. He was about to hit the send button when his fingers started moving again, as if on their own. BTW I broke up with Blaine. Coast is clear if you're interested. He sent the text, wondering what had possessed him to do so. Maybe it was just that it would feel more real if at least one other person knew about what had just happened. Or perhaps the thought of Blaine being pursued by Sebastian might make it a little easier to move on.
After a few minutes, longer than Kurt had anticipated, his phone buzzed again. How many times do I have to say it, princess? You're not really my type. Flattered that you keep trying, though.
Kurt flushed. Oh God, Sebastian thought Kurt had meant himself? He was mortified, and not a little surprised that Sebastian would make that assumption. OMG you wish, he typed back. I meant Blaine, dummy.
Once again, it took much longer for Sebastian to respond than Kurt would have thought. But after nearly five minutes, his phone signaled an incoming text. Appreciate the heads up. But I think I'll pass. 'Night, single lady.
Kurt sat looking at the text for a long time, not sure what to make of it. He felt a tiny flutter of relief that Sebastian didn't want to go after Blaine. The only problem was, he suddenly suspected that had more to do with the Sebastian side of the equation than the Blaine one. And he didn't know what to about that. Not at all.
This chapter turned out to be a lot longer than I intended, but I'm really happy with how it turned out. I would love it if you would review and let me know. And please log in if you have an FFN account, because I love to respond to reviews, and I can't do that if you're anonymous. :)
Speaking of reviews, since I know I have a whole bunch of new readers for this story, I'd like to make a request. If you have any issues with the Dave Karofsky part of this chapter, please keep it to yourself. I'm aware that there are people out there who don't like the character, don't want to read about him, and don't think Kurt should have felt bad about what happened to him. You are, of course, absolutely entitled to those feelings. However, seeing negative comments about Dave upsets me greatly, and when I get upset, the muse tends to shut down. Just ask anyone who waited forever for me to update with chapters on my last fic when I was so unhappy with Glee after the April hiatus. He won't be brought up again (that I can foresee), but I wouldn't have been honest with myself as a writer if I hadn't addressed him, and given myself some closure on the subject. Your discretion and sensitivity would be greatly appreciated, and I promise you it'll help the next chapter come a lot more quickly. And you don't want to wait too long for it, because the UST is really going to come to a head between Kurt and Sebastian. XD