A/N: Wow, two new fics in two days? It's almost like I'm BACK back again. I apologize if you're here still waiting for my Sabriel fic to be updated (it's coming, I swear) but in the meantime, take a look at what I have been working on lately! I got into Glee during my first year of college (which is almost over, woot woot), and here are some of my most recent works. This was actually just written three days ago. ✿◕ ‿ ◕✿
Okay, enough about me, here's the tea on this little thing. I have some large WIPs in the works for the kurtbastian fandom and I was starting to feel myself a little burnt out with outlining and planning and I just wanted to write. So I opened a new document and decided that this is what I wanted to write in the moment. I'm hoping to keep this at about 4-5 chapters or less, so a really short, multi-chapter fic; just something to write on the side with no strings attached. I refuse to outline anything and will just pull each chapter out of my ass, so look forward to that!
(Also note, I tagged Kurt/Blaine first because they are the more important relationship to Kurt (at first) and then Kurt/Sebastian is tagged second.)
I am coming up rather close to finals week (four days now) and haven't done much studying (oops) and so I will be focusing on that for the next week or so, but then I will be home with nothing to do except work part-time and write all summer. The next update for this will be probably later in the first week of May, fingers crossed. ಥ‿ಥ
As always, I hope you enjoy! xoxo
Sweeping It Under the Rug
Chapter One
Lips pressed against the shell of his ear and warm breath, smelling of sweet and fruity-alcoholic drinks, on his neck, tinging the skin into a scatter of goosebumps. One long breath in, his chest expanding and shoulders pressing more firmly into the chest behind him, and he's drunkenly made up his mind; he knows where he'll be spending the night, all inhibitions out of the window.
Kurt feels the pillow under his cheek first - a very soft fabric, but not like silk or satin, it felt denser than that, richer even - and then he feels the sudden stab of light in his eyes when he tries to open them. He's quick to close them again.
The next thing that registers as he starts to gain more and more feeling in his extremities, is the dull ache in between his legs; starting in his thighs and traveling up to his pelvis and lower stomach area is where he feels it from how he is laying on his side. It's the ache he's only felt a handful of times in his life - it's the ache the morning after a good fuck.
Crudeness aside, his shoulders tense at the implications of the thought because he doesn't remember Blaine being there at all and he could have sworn that they'd all booked hotel rooms above the casino-
"Kurt.." his name is sighed into the skin behind his ear and he feels hands travel down to his hips and the tugging and tightening hard enough to bruise the bones that are just under his skin as his ass is dragged backward. God, he could feel the other man's hardness in his jeans and Kurt hasn't felt this sexy in such a long time.
-and Blaine had been… elsewhere? With Cooper maybe? Kurt's half-unconscious and aching head couldn't make quick work of the puzzle pieces that continued to resurface as his memory slowly crawled back to him. He is aware of the dry cotton of his tongue and the stale taste in his mouth. His nausea was staying dormant for the moment, but he knows as soon as he tries to move or do more to resemble a functioning human being, it would come back with a vengeance.
It's when he tries to turn over to get out of the light that is preventing his eyes from opening fully, or stretching his limbs to get rid of the heavy feeling of sleep, or roll over, or anything that would help him wake up faster that he feels the warm and heavy weight behind him. So he and Blaine did have a good night after all - perhaps his soon-to-be-husband surprised him last night and they snuck off up here together.
"Auuugh," he hears behind him and-
-and Kurt stops breathing because that didn't sound like-
(impossible, I would never-)
-there is no way . It hurt him way too much last time and Kurt is happy, Kurt is content, Kurt is excited about his fucking wedding tomorrow night, for Christ's sake!
And yet he knows all of Blaine's sleepy noises by now and that certainly wasn't-
"Huh?" the mass groans from somewhere behind him. And fuck, the guy's a light sleeper because Kurt barely moved and that's just more evidence that it's not Blaine because he swears to a God he doesn't believe in that Blaine can sleep through literally anything, and if that's not Blaine then who the hell did he just wake up next to?
"Fuck," the guy sits up and Kurt jolts a little.
(Who? Who is the voice? Why do I know that voice?)
Oh God, please don't be Sam. Please don't have let last night be Sam's bi awakening finally-
The disparaging laugh behind him shocks his thoughts still once more and Kurt is suddenly paralyzed with the realization that he knows that laugh and Oh God, literally anyone but him- why oh, why does it have to be him of all people?
He knows that laugh, he knows it in the way that his stomach twists unpleasantly at the harsh and unforgiving memories of coiffed hair, bright teeth, and the sharp angles of high cheekbones and a pointed chin. And he remembers petty insults and childish games, and Blaine curled up in pain on the pavement of that goddamn parking garage and-
-and Sebastian fucking Smythe is the person in the bed next to him.
"Fuck," Kurt breathes in agreement with the other man's earlier statement.
"God, you're so…" the sentence is abandoned in trade for a low moan and lips pressing wetly against the bare skin at the back of his neck, under his hairline. Kurt's neck has always been sensitive and it turns him on faster when he's kissed or bitten there, just like what was happening now.
"I'm so what ?" Kurt pants, twisting his hips to the beat of the music he can distantly hear. Logically, he knows that the two of them are still dancing on the floor in the dense crowd of other party-goers, but his arousal, the alcohol he's been drinking for hours now, and the warmth of the taller man behind him are all working to fog his brain. Mostly he knows it's the alcohol, but God does he just want to be absolutely ravaged right now.
"Kurt," and those hands are traveling higher up his chest and lighting up his skin more. It's been so long since he's been touched like this, felt like this, wanted like this.
How the hell had he ended up here?
Kurt wants to cry-
(I want to scream)
-and he wants to punch something - maybe Sebastian - because it's very obvious what they did, even if his memories don't all come back-
(oh fuck, I don't want to remember how good his cock felt inside of me, how he knew just how to work my body and where to touch and pull and bite- )
-even if his memories don't come back, the state of the bed, the state of himself , make it obvious that they had drunk sex last night. The pounding behind his eyelids doesn't make this any easier and Kurt wants for the love of everything that he values in his life to just be able to roll over and get out of the glaring sunlight coming in through the window just so he can think properly. But rolling over meant facing Sebastian and facing the consequences of whatever the hell his drunken ass last night had deemed a good fucking idea, and facing Sebastian who was just sitting there and-
(looking glorious in the sunlight, hair somehow sleep-mused and sex-pulled and still looking great-)
-and not saying anything. He held his head in his hands, elbows resting on his thighs, and his back - wonderfully bare and covered in freckles - was bowed forward.
Fuck it, Kurt thinks, already facing him while the details of their situation are still resurfacing, and he turns over fully. He brings up an arm to further block the bright light from his eyes and he notices for the first time that they are both very naked.
"Uhh.." he eloquently says while he watches Sebastian turn to look at him.
Neither of them say anything while they take the last few seconds to absorb the shock of waking up next to the last person either of them ever thought they would.
It's a few moments later when Sebastian clears his throat and starts to slide off of the bed, pulling the sheet with him in an attempt to cover himself up.
Kurt flails for a second because it's the same sheet that he's using to keep himself - much more modestly, he'll admit - covered. "What are you doing!?" he finds his voice and it cracks from disuse and sleep.
Sebastian flinches at the sudden volume in the room and Kurt can honestly relate because that did nothing to cure or ease his headache. In fact, the pounding in his head decides to make itself more known after that and Kurt wants nothing more than to bury himself deep into this nice, comfortable, and warm bed. But no, now he's in the moment he has to-
The back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress and Sebastian was pulling his shirt off. Kurt reached forward and pressed a hand to his stomach, the defined muscles of his abs flexing as he moved to pull the long sleeve shirt - tie and jacket long forgotten - up and over his head.
Sebastian had pushed him towards the bed but didn't step too far away so that it was nothing to tip them both horizontally and on top of the made bed. God, it has been a long time since he's been pushed around like this, and Kurt's alcohol-infused brain likes it. He likes the feel of calloused hands running up the outside of his bare thighs to hike up his shirt until that sinful mouth can latch onto one of his nipples.
"Fu- uh- kuh!" Kurt cries out, legs moving to incase Sebastian's hips. They grinded together and he's not entirely sure when that happened but their hard cocks are pushing together now and the friction and pressure are just right because Kurt feels absolutely on fire.
His hands reach out on either side and feel along the smooth, cool cloth of the duvet that covered the bed. The mattress underneath him and the blankets that were warming up as their temperatures continued to rise felt wonderfully comfortable underneath Kurt's back. This was a bed meant for kings; which he supposes Sebastian might actually be after this. Who was this good in bed? And they haven't even done anything yet.
Fuck, Kurt wishes that they hadn't done anything at all.
"I'm going to the bathroom, unless you'd like me to not cover up at all?" Sebastian says, turning around to look irritably at Kurt.
This whole morning felt surreal, the only thing keeping him in the moment was the ache in his body and the throbbing pain behind his eyes. Sebastian was nearly standing now, Kurt having slid closer to his side of the bed to play a short game of tug-of-war with the sheet. But he let go in favor of pulling up the thick duvet that they must have kicked off of themselves at some point in the night because it was bunched by the end of the bed. He pulled that up to cover damn near his shoulders before he fully relinquished the sheet to the other man. In the same moment, he fired back, "what, now you're being modest?"
Sebastian, not one to ignore an obvious - even if unintentional, in Kurt's part - challenge, whips the sheet off and away from his body, and Kurt is faced with Sebastian's flaccid and hairless cock a mere inches from his face.
Kurt's not sure when the other man fully turned to face him, but it didn't stop the shocked gasp and how quickly the paler man jumped back; unfortunately back into the searing sunlight. He rocked back fast enough to make his stomach rumble and queasiness flair up. He ignores his body enough to squawk out, "what the fuck, Sebastian!"
The taller man just laughs, winces as if it hurts, - Good, Kurt thinks - and turns back towards the bathroom and disappears behind the door. Kurt tries not to think about how quickly his eyes track the mounds of the other man's pale ass. Hey, it's been years since he's seen another bare ass that wasn't his or Blaine's, and apparently, he already broke that technically-unmade-vow by cheating last night and so he thinks he's entitled a peek or two.
He also realizes that he's wasted about half of his break from Sebastian by reprimanding and then justifying himself for staring at the guy's ass. He takes a breath and springs out of bed, mindful of his headache and nausea, and starts to hunt for his clothes; the ache in his limbs and backside are already fading into a dull feeling, losing their importance by the other pangs in his body. Like how he might actually need to barge in on his sexcapade partner to throw up because dammit he will not be leaving that mess for the staff to clean after.
God knows what they already have to clean the bed of. The thought forces a shudder through his body as he pulls on his underwear - after double and then triple checking that they were, in fact, his because he refuses to leave in Sebastian's - and then his pants follow shortly after. Thank god he hadn't opted for the Alexander McQueen straight-leg cargo pants with the complicated waistband and built-in belt because his barely-functioning brain is struggling to figure out his simple skinny jeans button.
"Need help?" comes from behind him in a playfully patronizing tone.
Kurt whips around to face a still-nude Sebastian and before Kurt can even open his mouth to say anything, a sharp insult on the tip of his tongue, he gets sight of himself in the mirror behind the taller man from inside the bathroom that he left the door open to. He gasps instead and raises a hand to his mouth, he steps around Sebastian to get a closer look.
He's still shirtless and so the small, crooked line of three or four hickies that are bruised into the pale skin of his left collarbone and pec are clearly visible. "Sebastian!" he whispers-shouts, horrified.
"Not my best work, to be honest. I can make them into shapes if you want to try again-"
Kurt, still terrified - because holy shit they are physical evidence of what he- they did last night, and oh my god how am I ever going to face Blaine again and shit they have the rehearsal dinner later tonight, and will he actually be able to sit among their friends and family while he had marks on his body given to him by someone who isn't his fiancee - whips around to level Sebastian with the stoniest gaze he can muster. He's glad that the other man has returned his underwear to his body so that at least Kurt doesn't have to risk getting caught looking down there.
"Are you fucking kidding me, Sebastian? I know this is probably nothing new to you, but I did something so mon umental -" his voice cracks and he cuts himself off because he will not freak out and he will not cry in front of Sebastian fucking Smythe. Not now and not ever. He takes a deep breath and tries again, not letting as much emotion through, "I did something horrible last night and I need, just this once , for you to not be a massive dick about it-"
"So did I," Sebastian cuts him off, pulling his arm that he was resting on away from the wall. He no longer looks like he is everything calm in the world as he rubs the back of his neck and looks down at their bare feet.
"Sebastian, I don't think you're capable of under standing -"
"That we cheated?" he stops Kurt short once again. He steps closer to Kurt, still smelling of old cologne, sweat, and something dark and masculine. "That we probably just fucked over everything that is good to us?"
Now it's Kurt's turn for his eyes to widen at the sound of emotion in the other man's voice as it shakes. He hadn't even thought that Sebastian was capable of a relationship that was worth the gravity of cheating, much less be worried about it. The Sebastian he knew from high school wouldn't have been.
And more importantly, he had been the villain in Kurt's story as he had back in high school. And, oh, how Kurt really needed him to be the villain because if Sebastian wasn't that means that Kurt is and no, he can't think about that because if he does then he really will break down. The reality of the situation was crashing down on top of Kurt and he felt like he was suffocating and his fucking head will not stop pounding.
(What the fuck did I do?)
"Sebastian, I…" he is at a loss for words. There is a light coloring on the tops of Sebastian's cheeks and his eyes are red-rimmed and fuck, is he about to cry?
( Why the fuck did we both do it then?)
"Just don't," he turns away from Kurt then and bends down to pick up the nearest article of clothing on the floor; it's Kurt's shirt and instead of facing the other man again he just tosses it on the bed.
Kurt will definitely have to iron the shirt again, probably his pants again if he's being honest, and he doesn't want to think about going home right now. Because home is where no doubt Blaine is and Blaine is going to be his husband in less than three days- how the fuck could he have done this to poor, unsuspecting Blaine.
It's silent between the two of them for a few minutes while they start to slowly get dressed again. There was an incident for a second where Sebastian couldn't find his other sock but it eventually came up tucked under the velvet chair in the corner, by the door. The sounds of fabric rustling and buckles being clasped is the only noise for the longest time.
And then, once the silence starts to feel tense and pressing, Kurt clears his throat and tries to speak, "I, uh…"
After a second of him looking anywhere but Sebastian and stuttering over his words, Sebastian speaks up and saves him, "let's just, not talk about this, okay, Kurt?"
It's the first time that his name hadn't sounded like an insult coming from Sebastian's mouth - the countless times he moaned or growled his name last night is happily supplied by his traitorous memory, but Kurt ignores that - and it just pulls on the severity of the situation that they're no longer throwing sharp quips and insulting each other. He's not sure how he feels about it or if the thrill he does feel is only left over arousal from his memories.
"Yeah," Kurt nods, walking back over to the bed where he'd dropped his phone and wallet while he had put his pants on. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the glint of something metal in the wastebasket that is underneath the bedside stand. It's the open wrapper of a condom with the deposited latex laying not far from it amongst the other trash. "Let's not talk about it."
Sebastian nods once more at him and opens the door that he was standing next to. Kurt watches the taller man go before he sinks back to the mattress that gives and cradles his tired and aching body. His hands come up to cup his face as the first sob wracks his shoulders and curls his already-unsettled stomach.
A/N: Please, please, please leave any kudos and comments that you have time for! Feedback is what keeps me going!
Who should Sebastian be cheating on? I'm thinking of throwing a little Huntbastian into the mix, because why not?
If you have a prompt or just want to talk - PM me on tumblr, or you can just email me.
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