AN: Thank you to everyone who's been reading so far. Took a bit longer but this is finally the third chapter up. Reviews are greatly appreciated!
Chapter 3: We Used to Have It All, But Now's Our Curtain Call
Subtly checking out guy's asses at the Lima Bean.
Self-denying that day drinking was a sign of early-onset alcoholism.
Stealing either Nick's or Jeff's phone and sending uncharacteristically lewd texts from it.
It wasn't a complete list, but those were just some of the things that Sebastian felt would have been a better use of his Saturday afternoon than what he was doing now.
"I'm so glad we're doing this," Jeff said, nearly bouncing out of the car the moment it came to a full stop in the parking space. Trent, who was in the driver's seat, smiled over at Nick.
"I never get tired of how enthusiastic he is about everything."
That makes one of us, Sebastian thought darkly. He didn't understand why Jeff couldn't accept everything for the stale mediocrity that it was.
"Well, it's certainly infectious," Nick replied to Trent as he unbuckled his seatbelt.
"So is mono," Sebastian said, swinging open his car door and pushing himself out into the steady glow of Ohio sun. He had been stuck in a middle seat for a forty-minute car ride, and he wasn't sure if the tight squeeze or the spontaneous Train acapella had been the more unbearable part of that experience. He stretched out his back and then slammed his car door, receiving an unnecessary amount of satisfaction from the loud thud.
Wes and Jeff were already standing outside, blocking their eyes from the sun to look at the building in front of them.
"I've never been here before," Wes said, surveying the sparse scatter of cars in the lot.
"My grandfather comes here to play bridge on the weekends," Jeff said. "Sometimes, on the way, he stops for lunch at the diner on Fourth."
"Well, congrats to him for having a more exciting Saturday than us," Sebastian said drily, coming up to stand beside them in front of the Lima Senior Center.
He was trying his best to behave – really, he was – but being in prolonged proximity to genuinely nice, cheerful people set his teeth on edge like nothing else. Trent and Nick had spent half the way chattering about Thai food of all things, and Wes had taken their close quarters as a chance to update Sebastian about his Model UN club.
He wished that just once he could hear one of them complain, or swear, or admit that they buried bodies on the Dalton grounds once a month – anything, really, to prove that they weren't live-action Disney characters.
After all, they couldn't be that fucking happy all of the time, could they?
"You know, you didn't have to come with us if you didn't want to, Sebastian," Jeff said, breaking Sebastian out of his thoughts. Jeff had turned to him with a wry smile and a slightly scolding look in his eyes.
Sebastian ignored the look and flung an arm around his shoulder. "What? And miss this heart-pumping, non-stop thrill ride?"
He tilted his head with a plastered-on smirk, marking it as a win when he saw Jeff blush slightly. The thing that probably still amazed him the most was how much douchebaggery he managed to get away with purely off of looks alone.
"You are technically still on probation," Wes broke in matter-of-factly as Sebastian slid his arm from Jeff's shoulder, "which means you're officially meant to be cataloguing set lists this afternoon."
Well, mostly get away with.
Unfortunately, Wes wasn't wrong – Sebastian hadn't so much resigned from Captaincy as been formally informed of his suspension after Regionals. That meant being relegated to junior member status, being assigned menial tasks outside of practice, and enduring the pain of watching Thad robotically fill in as acting Captain until a new one was reelected.
"You've been granted an exemption," Wes continued, "because you say you sincerely want to support Blaine and his friends." His voice held a note of skepticism, and Sebastian knew he was waiting for an excuse to send him back to the doghouse. "I hope that's still true?"
To say that Wes and the rest of them had been surprised when he'd asked to tag along would have been a grand understatement, and he was fairly sure they were all still waiting for the punchline. On a certain level, Sebastian knew that he didn't deserve the Warblers' trust or forgiveness quite yet – and admittedly, if he hadn't been doing this for Dave, he would most definitely not be in attendance.
But if he was being honest with himself (and he rarely was – only on weekends and special occasions), he was a little hurt by their obvious skepticism of his changed ways. He was trying – but just because being an innocent, kiss-ass boy scout came less naturally to him than to all of them, it didn't mean he deserved less credit for it.
'Kiss-ass boy scout?' You're right, you're really throwing yourself into this whole 'better person' thing, his conscience murmured, and he gave it a shove toward the back of his head; he deserved at least a few hours away from it.
"Hello!"
An elderly woman with a perm of snow-white hair had tottered up to them while they'd been talking. She wore a loose, maroon pantsuit and orthopedic sandals, and was clutching a stack of papers. "Are you all here for the performance?"
"Yes, we are, ma'am," Jeff said cheerily, as Wes gave a final warning look to Sebastian. "So long as there's room for us."
"Oh, lovely! Well, here, take a program." She began diligently handing out a paper to each of them with slightly stuttering hands; Sebastian accepted one and saw an amateurish font reading out:
In a Special One-Time Performance:
The State-Renowned Show Choir: NEW DIRECTIONS!
Performing classics such as Sinatra, Elvis, and Motown, as well as a few fun surprises
There will be refreshments offered before the show.
Starts promptly at 3:00 pm, Saturday the 3rd
"State-renowned? Seriously?" Sebastian said, eyebrow already arched in disdain. On seeing Wes's warning glare, he decided to stop speaking, in case he decided it would do Sebastian some good to walk the forty miles back to Westerville.
"Yes, isn't it exciting?" the old woman said good-naturedly, missing the sarcasm in Sebastian's voice. "People are already inside, why don't you go on in? Enjoy the show!" she said, and began tottering back to a chair that had been set up beside the entrance.
Sebastian had had low expectations for the turnout, but even he felt a bit of secondhand discomfort at the emptiness inside the performance hall. Some plastic chairs had been optimistically added to the sides of the tables and benches already there, but the room was only half full, and most of the attendees looked like they were one 'fun surprise' away from a visit to their local hospital.
They chose seats close to the front, and though he did multiple sweeps of the room, he couldn't see any sign of Dave. Pulling out his phone, he sent him a quick text asking where (the fuck) he was. If Sebastian could show up to this on time, there was absolutely no excuse for head-over-heels Romeo to be late.
At 2:58, Dave burst into the hall, and even from across the room, Sebastian could hear his breathless huffing. He turned to give Dave a What the fuck? glare; he was wearing one of the shirt-and-jean combos they'd picked out at the mall together, and was clutching a bouquet of blue and purple flowers. He ran a hand across his sweaty forehead as he collapsed into a seat in the middle of the room, giving Sebastian a helpless shrug.
"Excuse me, excuse me, everyone." An elderly man leaning against a cane had made his way onto the stage. He waited a few moments, though Sebastian was fairly certain the elderly audience was as close to awareness as it would get, and then began reading off of a notecard in his hand. "And now, fresh off of a Regionals win and excitedly awaiting their trip to Nationals, we have the state-renowned choir group performing a never-before-seen setlist… New Directors! Err… my apologies – New Directions!"
As it turned out, the performance wasn't as bad as Sebastian expected it to be.
He'd already known that as a show choir they were solid performers (they had to be, to beat the Warblers), but he'd expected them to lean fairly hard into the nostalgia factor of this performance (after all, what was it with them and Journey?)
But instead, they layered the show with tasteful classics (Sebastian had always had a soft spot for Sinatra) along with some more modern pop. One of the 'fun surprises' promised, Sebastian assumed, was a mashup of Hot in Herre and Fever, during which their knockoff Aretha had really gotten a chance to belt.
Another fun surprise was that Berry only spent one song vocally masturbating on stage. All of the other numbers were either group or duet, and shit – Hummel could actually sing.
Sebastian had never heard his voice outside of backup or for longer than a few bars. And seeing that he'd never had a solo in any of the competition numbers aside from when the Warblers had lost, Sebastian had assumed Hummel only joined show choir to check that final box on the National Gay Stereotype list.
But towards the middle of the show, he and Lopez sang a high-octane duet of Gaga's Boys Boys Boys that Sebastian was afraid would result in an audience fatality, and everything from his vibrato to his phrasing was pretty much technically flawless. Sure, he was as camp as a My Little Pony collection, but rather than trying to cover it up, he played into it. It wasn't really Sebastian's thing, but he respected the self-assurance.
When their number finished, Sebastian looked back to make sure that Dave hadn't had an aneurism. From the slightly open-mouthed look he had on his face as he weakly clapped to Hummel's and Lopez's bows, Sebastian wasn't entirely convinced he hadn't.
And then there was Blaine's part of the show, and Sebastian knew a fellow attention whore when he saw one. There was nothing wrong with being one, per say – people didn't go on stage because they were shy – but Sebastian also knew that Blaine held deity status with the Warblers, and he couldn't help but compare their skill levels (ex-captain to ex-captain) as Blaine performed a What's Love Got to Do with It? duet with Female Asian.
It was good. Blaine was good – in his technique, in his range, in his, well, everything. Sebastian usually had two settings when it came to guys – competition or seduction – and with Blaine it had gone from the latter to the former. He hadn't fucked him, so now he had to compare them, and, height advantage aside, he wasn't sure he was the winner of that Venn Diagram.
Their closing number was Locomotion, where they valiantly attempted to get some audience participation with clapping; only a few of the seniors joined in, and it almost seemed like they were purposely trying to miss the beat. The Warblers and Dave were really the only ones holding the rhythm, and the New Directions finished in a practiced hold for applause to receive only a few additional stray claps.
When they had taken their final bows and made their way to a makeshift backstage, Sebastian stood up, pushing his way past the tables toward Dave.
"Late much?" he asked, giving him a quick once-over.
Dave stood up abruptly from his chair and launched into an explanation. "I was gonna get here early, but then I stained the shirt we picked out, so I was trying to find a different one that would look good, and then at the grocery store they didn't have one with only purple flowers, so I had to buy two different ones and mix them together…" He paused, picking up the bouquet he had laid on the floor.
In Sebastian's opinion, Dave was taking the details of all this far too seriously – Sebastian had always been a big-picture kind of guy, with much lower expectations for both himself and, by extension, everyone else.
"Relax, big guy," Sebastian said. "Shirts and flower color aren't going to be the deciding factor here."
Dave took a deep, steadying breath. "I know. You're right. I guess I'm just – kind of nervous. It's okay, though. I'm here now."
"Exactly," Sebastian said. "You're here now. And meanwhile, he," he jerked his head in the direction of the show choir members that had started spilling into the entrance hall, "is over there. So why don't you go over and give him that custom bouquet you made?"
Dave swallowed roughly and nodded. "Right, okay. Yeah." With a final self-assuring nod, he began his path towards the crowd of New Directions, while Sebastian went back over to join the Warblers, who were in the midst of trying to decide which number had been their favorite.
Their group began mingling with the New Directions as Jeff ambushed Blaine with a hug from behind, and fortunately, they stopped at a spot just near Hummel, where Sebastian could unabashedly watch and listen in to the conversation.
"Hey, Kurt," Dave said softly, and as Hummel turned toward him, his face went through that same Rolodex of emotions, though the predominant ones this time were surprise and pleasure.
"David!" he said, in an even higher pitch than normal. "You – you came," he said, a soft smile spilling across his face.
"Uh, yeah. I heard you guys were, uh, you know." He paused, with a deer-in-headlights look, and Sebastian mentally prodded him to continue.
Come on, say the stuff we practiced.
Almost as if he'd received divine inspiration, Dave burst out, "You were great! I mean, your performance, it was – it was really great. Especially your song."
Hummel blushed, and, well – wasn't that interesting? "Probably a bit much for this demographic, but, um, we had fun with it."
"These are for you," Dave burst out with the same intensity, thrusting the bouquet toward Hummel, who was clearly caught off-guard by the sudden movement. "For all of you, I mean, but I just thought I'd give them to you, because you're here, and…uh, you were really great." He trailed off at the end, as if finally losing his burst of steam.
Hummel's smile faltered for a moment, but then came back on with a flick as he pressed a hand to his chest. "Oh, David, you shouldn't have," he said, and Sebastian wondered if he practiced sounding like a Gone with the Wind character.
He gingerly took the flowers, looking at them closely. "They're – they're beautiful, David. I've never seen these two together before."
Sebastian could see Dave swell slightly with pride. "You like them?"
"I do," Hummel said, giving him another smile. "It means a lot to me – to all of us – that you came."
And then, almost in slow-motion and without any warning, Hummel rocked onto his toes and pressed a soft kiss to Dave's cheek, letting his lips linger for a few seconds (Sebastian counted) before finally pulling back down and away. He looked down demurely at the bouquet again, as if nothing particular had happened.
Well, that was ahead of schedule. Sebastian felt a flip of smug pride in his stomach – he didn't know what Nicholas Sparks had made all the fuss about, because this 'wooing' business wasn't so hard, after all.
But the next moment, the self-congratulation that Sebastian had felt was slipping away as quickly as it had come, because suddenly, with a clear view of Hummel's face, suddenly he could see – he could see the exact way that Hummel was looking at Dave, and God, it was so painfully obvious that he didn't know how he'd missed it in the first place.
"You're staring."
Sebastian's concentration broke as he turned to look at Nick, who had split away from the Blaine Parade and was appraising him thoughtfully. "It's slightly creepy."
"Thanks for the feedback," he said, and turned back to watching Dave and Hummel.
Dave looked like he'd just been given a Nobel Prize with a winning lottery ticket. Hummel had trained his eyes, almost shyly, on the flowers in his hand, and was tracing his fingers across the petals.
"You know you can go over, right?" Nick said, now at Sebastian's shoulder. "You don't have to just watch from a distance."
"I'm aware," Sebastian muttered, mind still whirring with implications.
"Hey, Kurt!" Nick called out, and Sebastian gritted his teeth in annoyance. As Hummel turned away from Dave, Nick waved at him, beckoning him over.
"Over here!"
"I hate you," Sebastian breathed, and Nick gave him a sidelong smile that looked innocent enough, so long as he didn't pay attention to the mischievous glint in his eyes.
Maybe the Warblers weren't as angelic as he'd originally thought.
Hummel made his way over, with Dave following suit and wearing a slightly lost expression. Hummel leaned into a hug for Nick, who immediately reciprocated, and then pulled back to give Sebastian a judgmental once-over.
"Sebastian. Didn't think you'd be here."
His voice was delicate and snippy, nothing like the sweet, breathy voice he reserved for Dave or the cheerful tone he'd used with Nick.
"That makes two of us," Sebastian replied, with as much fuck-you as he could infuse into his voice.
"Sebastian really liked your number, Kurt," Nick broke in. "It was the only one where I didn't hear him mutter 'Jesus Christ' under his breath."
On the one hand, Sebastian was appreciating that Nick appeared to have a devilish side, but on the other hand – not the right time.
"What can I say," Sebastian said, resisting the urge to grit his teeth again, "Baby Spice together with generic brand J-Lo? What's not to like?"
"What did Prince Smarmy just call me?" Lopez had made a one-eighty as she was passing in order to join their conversation, and Sebastian mentally groaned.
"What was it he said - Generic brand J-Lo?" Hummel spoke through the words carefully, and Sebastian didn't have to see the glint in his eyes to know he was fucking with him. "Yes, I think those were his exact words."
"Generic brand J-Lo? Well, you're going to wish for generic-brand painkillers if you say shit like that again, Smythe," Lopez said, placing a hand on her hip and pouting out her lips in what he thought was supposed to be defiance.
"We still on for Friday?" Sebastian said, abruptly changing the subject in an attempt to turn the attention back to Dave.
As intended, Hummel immediately looked over at Dave. "If you still want me and Blaine to come, I – "
"I'd love it," Dave cut him off with a lopsided grin.
"Well, in that case, I wouldn't miss it for the world," Hummel said, all breath and sweetness. "And besides," he tilted his head back over to Sebastian, his voice taking on a sharper edge, "I'm not cruel enough to leave you alone all night with Satan's rightful heir."
Well, at least Sebastian was good for something.
"You guys are going out together?" Nick asked, right before Lopez broke in with, "Hold on, Lady Hummel, you're actually spending time with this bloodsucker?"
With almost perfect timing, Berry's voice broke in. "Attention, everyone, we're going back to McKinley to rehearse for Nationals, I repeat, we are going back to McKinley for rehearsal."
Sebastian saw Blaine break away from Trent, Jeff, and Wes from the corner of his eye, and Lopez rolled her eyes as she turned around. "Looks like the queen hobbit commands us," she said, and then glanced back at Hummel. "Oh, and we are not done with this discussion, Fifty Shades of Gay."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Hummel said drily as she left their group, and then turned to Dave with a soft smile. "I love the flowers, David. I'll make sure the rest of the group sees them."
It boggled Sebastian's mind how many tones Hummel had and how quickly he switched between them. To Sebastian, it raised the question of which one was actually real.
"I just, uh…I'm glad you liked them," Dave said shily, rubbing at the back of his neck.
Hummel turned back to Nick and Sebastian. "And I'm glad you guys came out to the show. I'm sure Blaine really appreciates it."
"You were really great, Kurt," Nick said, and then unsubtly nudged Sebastian. "What did you think, Sebastian?"
Would it be the end of the world to say something nice? his conscience crept out from the back of his mind. Especially since you actually liked his performance?
"I thought…"
Go on.
"…you were, uh…"
Hummel's expression was one of morbid curiosity, as if he knew nothing good was happening but couldn't stop himself from watching.
You can do it. One nice thing, and I'll shut up for the rest of the day.
"…decent."
Sebastian internally cringed, not just at the awkwardness of his words, but at the immediate switch in Hummel's face from apprehension to amusement.
Oh, so close, his conscience winced. Better luck next time.
"Decent," Hummel repeated, and since when had Sebastian let Hummel borrow his smirk? "Well, that's downright generous, Smythe."
He and Nick exchanged twin smiles, and Sebastian even caught Dave looking down with a hidden grin.
Unbelievable. You try to help a guy out.
Hummel turned back to Dave abruptly, with the same angel-in-training expression as before. "I'll see you on Friday, David," he said, briefly placing a hand on his arm.
"I feel like you're getting the middle seat again, so enjoy the legroom while you can," Nick told Sebastian unhelpfully.
And then he and Hummel were gone, and as much as he didn't want to, Sebastian couldn't avoid thinking about what had happened anymore.
Because Dave had a dazed, back-in-five-gone-to-heaven expression on his face right now, and Sebastian was pretty sure he'd given handjobs that had had less effect than that kiss.
And that was great, except Sebastian had seen something Dave didn't – maybe something that Dave couldn't.
Because when Hummel pulled back, for a moment – just a moment, no longer – something slipped out of place. It wasn't a Rolodex, it wasn't a gear change, it was just a single moment where, by accident or otherwise, Hummel allowed his feelings to show on his face, the mask to fall, and Sebastian happened to see it.
And he wished he hadn't. With all of his heart (three sizes too small as it was) he wished he hadn't seen the definitive sympathy in Kurt's eyes, the look you give to a loved one but not a lover, the pity that said, clear as a Hallmark greeting card, 'I care about you, I want the best for you, but sorry, so sorry, I don't love you.'
Because Sebastian knew now. He knew that whatever complex emotions Hummel had for Dave, romantic love wasn't one of them. And he knew that all of this was effectively a suicide mission – God, that was a bad choice of words.
"You're amazing, you know that?" Dave was staring at him with an awe-struck expression, eyes lit up with wonder and bliss. "He kissed me. He actually kissed me."
"Yeah, he did," Sebastian said dully, because the last thing he wanted right now was for Dave to sing his praises just as he'd realized how completely, hopelessly fucked this all was.
But then out of nowhere, he was being enveloped in a giant bear hug by a giant bear (was that where that expression came from?), and he suddenly knew that in this particular instance, false hope was better than no hope.
Dave finally pulled back. "I think…" he paused, almost as if he was trying to formulate his happiness into words. "I think I actually have a chance with him, you know?"
Sebastian just nodded dumbly. There was a chance. There was a chance that Hummel would run back in, leap into Dave's arms, and serenade him with a song from Moulin Rouge. It just wasn't a very big one.
Dave smiled a lopsided grin and reached up to pat Sebastian on the arm. "I'll see you at Scandals, buddy."
Sebastian nodded, because what else was he supposed to do, and then Dave was gone, and Sebastian knew if he wasn't in the Warblers' car in the next minute they'd probably leave without him, but he stood there anyway, because again, what else was he supposed to do?
So, Hummel didn't have feelings for Dave. Well, fuck.
He couldn't tell Dave that – at least not now, not when he wasn't quite sure the mental and emotional place at which Dave currently was, belt-wise. So what options did that leave him with?
He could call the whole thing off, say that he'd raised enough profit, cut his losses, and skip out during the intermission of this shitshow.
Or... or, for once, he could discard his own feelings, and just do something, selflessly, for another human being. He might not be able to buy him love, but he could still make sure Dave got a hell of a night with Hummel at Scandals.
And maybe that was all Dave really needed. Maybe, the more time that passed, the less his feelings for Hummel would matter and the more he'd be able to move on to bigger, less camp fish.
Maybe. But either way, Dave deserved to be happy, and if right now, Hummel was what made him happy, then Sebastian wasn't about to burst that iridescent Glinda bubble.
"Sebastian, you coming?" Trent called into the hall.
"I'm practically running," Sebastian replied, shoving his hands into his pockets and beginning his walk toward the exit, his legs already dreading the cramped ride.
As much as he wanted to sleep on the ride back, it was time to plan one hell of a night at Scandals.
And maybe, if time permitted, steal Nick's phone and redistribute some of that cosmic karma.