5

(One of My French Girls)

AN: #4 was pretty good considering all I started with was "Team ***!" That's how a lot of these start actually, just one line, just one thought and trying to figure out a story that goes with it. Sometimes I have the general idea of a story and have to write the words but sometimes all I have to go on is just a sentence that I really wanted to write, lol. I have a whole document filled with just phrases and trying to figure out how they work, where they belong, what the idea was behind it when I wrote it down. Sometimes I do that and then totally lose the train of thought. Sometimes I set to write that story and then end up not using that particular line whatsoever.

Sebastian sang along softly to the song that played on the radio. It was an overplayed French song that tourists always sang or asked to be played or sung while they were with their lover. It was a cliché French song and was just like going to Venice and going on a gondola ride and having the paddler sing to you while you cuddled under a blanket with that lover.

Sebastian didn't blame them though, it was a great song and each new artist put their own spin on it. It had earned it's place as quintessentially French and he was proud of it and anyone who sang it well, La Vie En Rose.

The song ended with a flourish and another one slid into place.

Maybe it was the song or maybe it was his thoughts but when he heard the bell tinkle over the shop's door, walked into the main room and the first thought to spring to his head was new lover. He was wiping the paint from his hands onto a towel that had seen cleaner days and took in the male that had entered.

His slim body was encased perfectly in a pair of dark gray almost black wool trousers that were slim cut but not overly tight. Sebastian was disappointed that his speckled medium gray coat was cut just long enough that he couldn't see how the pants fit in the back but it was opened in front and knew that it wasn't over stretched, just cut perfectly. The layers were open to the one below, coat, steel gray button up over a simple white T and a checkered red scarf wrapped expertly around his neck. The dark aviators hide his eyes from Sebastian's keen gaze.

Not one thing on his body was placed there by accident. Every cut and placement of each layer was precisely where it was meant to be. His hair was styled to purposefully give the impression of not trying but falling perfectly into a messy-sexiness all on it's own but still professional enough to swing into the office on the weekend if needed.

If this was his casual weekend wear, Sebastian wanted to see how he dressed during the work week. He was sure it wouldn't disappoint. More than that, he wanted to see all those clothes in a messy pile on the floor, so overcome by passion to care anymore about his material items that were so much a factor of his personality and identity.

While Sebastian was French through and through and could appreciate style and substance and the male body beneath that he could only guess at, he didn't put as much thought or effort into his own clothing most days. He lived his life in faded jeans with paint splatter all over them and a white shirt that was only white if you could find a patch without paint or vaseline. He used to wear an apron to protect his clothes but it just got in the way and he didn't even bother now. They fit his body nicely but were just a hair too loose so he could move in them. It had never been a detracting feature before when he'd picked up other guys as nicely dressed as this one was.

This was France though and Sebastian couldn't be sure on first glance if this stranger was even gay. If he wasn't, Sebastian was still sure that he could convince him to give it a try. He was French after all, his masculine sensibilities wouldn't be offended to be presented with such an offer, may even be flattered.

He spoke in French without even thinking about whether or not he should. His shop was definitely along the line of the famous shops and many, many influential and financially fluid people stopped in and purchased one of his paintings as they walked the boulevard. There were some lookers who didn't have the funds and just wanted to see. He could usually pick them out pretty quickly. He didn't treat them any worse though, he appreciated anyone who appreciated his art even if they couldn't financially support him. He had enough money without ever selling a single painting to continue to paint and never work a day in his life at an actual job and still live comfortably. One of his paintings though went for as much as a nice house in a upscale neighborhood.

Sebastian spoke English effortlessly and could switch into it smoothly with those he deemed wouldn't know his native tongue. Sometimes he put on a heavy French accent to appear more attractive and sometimes he spoke English with hardly any accent at all, adopting a Midwestern accent or the Queen's depending on the tourist. It didn't even cross his mind that this man wouldn't know it, everything about him screamed French and he wondered how he had never come across him before.

He saw the male turn toward him, not realizing that Sebastian had joined him in the shop. He had just been enthralled by the painting hanging straight across from the entrance with appropriate lighting and protected from the sun. He had been so caught up in it that he probably wouldn't have heard the bell ding to announce another customer.

"Oh, um, hi. I didn't know you were here. Did you come in through a backdoor or something?" The male was startled and spoke in French but there was a hint of something in his accent that Sebastian recognized... Ah, he was American.

Sebastian did not switch to English, this stranger's French pronunciation was nearly flawless, even as he stumbled over himself.

Instead, Sebastian couldn't help but smile charmingly as the American accent told him that this wasn't going to be a permanent situation. Sebastian could be the French fling and then the American would go home and they'd both remember their time fondly but move on to other adventures. It was even better than he could have predicted when he decided this stranger was going to be added to his tally.

"I have a studio in the back." Sebastian explained and stepped closer. "I see you've fallen in love with my madam."

"Madam?" The man asked curious. Sebastian wished he could see his eyes.

"Ah yes, she oversees my shop and the other girls." He waved to the rest of the room. "She has been my good luck charm. Everyone falls for her, how could you not? But no one can purchase her."

"You're making your shop sound like a ring of prostitution."

"We are in Paris, the home of the Moulin Rouge, prostitution is such an ugly word for it." Sebastian had always painted women, not because they fascinated him but because they sold well. Men and women all purchased a female figure whether they were gay or straight or somewhere in-between. He'd learned that quickly and saw it first with Edgar Degas and continued with all the street art. Women were captivating for some reason.

As Sebastian stationed them in his studio and took pictures or positioned them to get a quick sketch or idea, he had learned to appreciate them more. He took note of them on the street now, of all ages and committed the scene to memory to try and recapture on canvas, maybe even improve it with a better surrounding.

The man's face gave him away and appeared as if he were going to leave. He hadn't wanted to be part of that, no matter what label you placed on it. Sebastian thought quickly but kept his speech relaxed and welcoming. "France is also home to such works as Mona Lisa, Olympia and the Death of Marat. She is just a mother overseeing her girls. I apologize for my less than sensitive narration. I do not encourage that kind of viewing of my subjects." He was not claiming the Mona Lisa as French, just that it was created here.

The man's shoulders relaxed and looked over the madam again. "She kind of looks like a school teacher." The man said and Sebastian laughed, for she was exactly that.

"She was the school marm at my primary boarding school and became my first true model for my career trajectory. Although she didn't know it until I became famous. I drew her with devil horns when I was a child, neither one of us knew she'd eventually become the bar that others hoped to match."

"These..." The man breathed looking at the others. "Are not cheap imitations of her."

"No, my skills have gotten better over the years." Sebastian agreed but the intensity of her eyes looking at him, judging him, urging him to be better could never be matched. Maybe he only saw it because he had grown up with her and it wasn't actually there in the paint. Still, this man had stopped and taken her in, it had to be there for others to see too in some capacity. He was only ever destined for disappoint her. The her in his mind at least, the one that had her own personality and insider knowledge of him, things he'd set upon himself. He knew it was all his own thoughts and feelings that he'd assigned her over the years.

The real one had seen it and complimented him on it and praised him for all he'd accomplished. They kept in touch but she wasn't the headmistress that he'd created her to be in his head. She was so much older now than the woman in his painting but she'd always be the woman in the painting, the woman he thought she'd been when he was a young boy. There was still some of that sternness and prudishness but it was softer, she wasn't in charge of him any longer and so did not need to discipline him. She treated him like an adult with the capability to make his own decisions and live with the consequences.

"Never paint men?" The stranger asked, starting to move through some of the canvases that were carefully organized in dividers to flip through.

"As background characters, maybe." Sebastian shrugged. He painted females at all stages of their lives now. He hadn't moved on to men or couples. "Were you hoping to come in and find a male form to stare at?" Sebastian was setting it up to put himself on display but eyebrows shot up in shock.

"What? No! I was just curious. There were just so many women in here, I thought it might be a theme." There was a delicious blush forming along the man's neck and cheeks. "I was going to ask about animals and flowers next."

"Just women." Sebastian agreed, giving him a little break while Sebastian tracked the progress the blush made. It hadn't covered every part of his exposed flesh and was starting to recede now. Sebastian wondered if he could make that blush cover every part of his body and wondered what he'd need to do to achieve that. Already he wanted to see it appear again and was thinking of ways to get him to blush but not leave in offense. Sebastian was figuring this male out as they spoke casually, he had morals and if it went against those morals he was ok with leaving empty handed.

Sebastian wanted to press on those morals, see how far down they ran, if he could get him to bend just a little. A little holiday fling might not be something he was going to be ok with afterall. Had he really been French, he wouldn't need all the prompting and prodding. He would have been open to an honest and blunt question. This stranger wouldn't be as welcoming of a direct approach. Yet Sebastian also did not want him to think there would be more.

It was a delicate balance he would have to walk, that was ok, Sebastian could be a tightrope walker if he wanted to be. Sebastian was flickering through different approaches and discarding any he didn't think would work. In the end though, he didn't get a chance to apply any of them as another American came in, this one attempting the ease and French sophistication the man had in spades. She did not achieve it and had obviously disregarded anything the man had suggested to make her blend in more. Even the cut and length of every item he wore was intentional.

"Kurt!" She said loudly. "Aren't you done yet? I am freezing and the cafe wouldn't let me take the coffee to go, they said it was meant to be savored and not destroyed by a paper cup drank while on the go. She said that I couldn't understand how to slow down and enjoy what was in front of me."

The man's shoulders tensed again and he breathed in and out slowly. Sebastian thought the barista was absolutely correct. It was also obvious from what he could see of the man's face that he agreed but had the patience of someone who had known that for a very long time and still saw the benefit of spending time with her. Sebastian glanced over the girl again, and he wasn't the best one to judge in some ways but the perfect one to in other ways, he'd spent a good portion of his life regarding a woman from head to toe and learning her in and out to show her true colors intentionally on canvas. He found her uninspiring and insipid but there had to be something more to her Sebastian wasn't seeing right now if Kurt deemed her worth his time. Perhaps he was just biased because she had ruined his one on one with Kurt.

"I will join you in a moment, Rachel, my eye was caught and I had to come in." He was trying to dismiss her. "We can go to a different coffee shop, there's plenty of them around here."

Rachel turned toward Sebastian and ran her brown eyes over him. "Yeah, I can see what caught your eye."

"That's not fair!" They were speaking English since she came in and Sebastian hadn't said anything in greeting. She wouldn't have heard him anyway. "I was captured by the art." He glanced over at Sebastian and spoke in French for him. "I am sorry about her, I should go. Thank you for spending time with me and discussing your work."

"Please come back at any time. I have more I could show you." Sebastian said silkily and Kurt nodded.

"I will be back without Rachel in tow in the future." He gave Sebastian a smile that was conversational in nature, they both understood what he was saying with it. "I do intend to purchase something."

"No need, just showing you will be enough." Sebastian waved off.

"I do not think I could go home and not regret bringing one of your pieces home with me." Kurt answered so honestly and without additional meaning.

It touched Sebastian and knew that this Kurt would always have something of his with him, a piece of him. He really had liked his art and it was just the art that he was interested in. It was a bit of a blow to Sebastian's ego but it was probably due for a hit anyway. Sebastian reached out and snatched Kurt's aviators off his face and knew it was a violation of personal space and such a boyish thing to do, but he couldn't let Kurt leave without seeing his full face and eyes.

It was the wrong thing to do.

It was not the wrong thing because of Kurt's reaction or his companion's. No, now that he'd seen those eyes, he couldn't unsee them. Before seeing them, he'd had a chance of forgetting this man, attractive face and style not enough to burn a permanent memory into his brain. It was a small interlude that if the man was lying or choice against coming back, wouldn't be anything of significance in the long run for Sebastian. His character would have been harder to forget but there were a lot of people that came in and out of his shop, people he met on his travels and during his day. He may yet meet someone like Kurt, even though he hadn't thus far.

Those eyes were another story. There was no one on the planet who had eyes even remotely like Kurt's. He should have been a model that focused on eye products. Those eyes were as piercing as the girl on the Time's feature but his changed colors. One photo to the next would be different yet so intrinsically Kurt's. It was no wonder he kept his eyes hidden behind shades, people would stop and be arrested by those eyes on the street, forgetting what they were doing and probably cause some kind of harm to bestow themselves or others.

Sebastian would never in his life time or any that he might live in the future, forget those eyes. He'd never seen them before but at the same time, seeing them here and now, he felt like he'd always known those eyes.

"Ugh, weirdo." Rachel said as she grabbed the glasses out of Sebastian's slack grasp and put them back into Kurt's hand while pulling him out of the shop. "Don't ever come back here again, that guy is so strange!"

"Rach, that's not a nice thing to say!" Kurt didn't seem offended at all, in fact as Sebastian stared into his eyes, Kurt had seemed just as captured by Sebastian. He hadn't moved at all until Rachel had started to drag him out. Perhaps it had been surprise, but there was something in that gaze, a lick of instinctual archaic knowledge that Sebastian had shared. It had expanded both space and time, new and ancient all at once. It didn't matter what culture you prescribed to, this was some base part of nature they knew and couldn't ignore.

He wouldn't have to apply any of his typical approaches with Kurt. Kurt would be back, he didn't know how he could be so sure, but he was. This wasn't the last time he would see Kurt, even if he had to be the one to track down the American, they'd finish what they just started.

Sebastian was starting to think that he'd been wrong. It had been a week, Kurt could have gone home, most vacations to Europe were a week or two, a month if they were lucky.

He wouldn't even know how to begin to track down the American. He knew his first name and Nationality, or at least where he'd originally herald from. People did move and choose to relent citizenship and take on a new mantel. He doubted that was true for Kurt though, his friend had been an American trope through and through, unless they had just met up in Paris for a reunion. Still, there couldn't be that many men named Kurt passing through Paris over the last week, fewer from America.

He knew the popular hotels and they knew him there as well, too well sometimes. He laughed to himself about why that was the case. Still, there were a lot of options these days for tourists, they could have taken up a private residence for their duration.

The bell chimed, signaling he'd gotten another customer. Sebastian repeated the behavior he always seemed to be doing when someone came in. It was rare when he hung out in the gallery. He always had something he was working on. Besides, it led to better sales for the customer to see him actually working on a project or appearing that way when they came in. It gave it an authentic feeling that someone couldn't get just by looking at a painting these days.

He was the one to stop short when he was greeted by the male face that had haunted his dreams. "I didn't think you were going to show. I thought maybe you had gone home."

The smile in response was easy. "I did say I would be back and without Rachel." He looked around him as if looking for her then turned those uncovered eyes to Sebastian. "I put her on a plane this afternoon."

"And you chose to stay?" Sebastian did quick math, they could have 3 months, max, before Kurt would have to head home after his tourist visa expired. It was unlikely that his job would let him be gone for that length of time. He might be able to squeeze out an extra week from work.

"I had a painting I promised I would purchase and bring home with me." Kurt gave a small shrug, he was the one playing it cool this time while Sebastian was at a bit of a loss. He had no idea what happened to him over the last week. He couldn't get Kurt out of his head. Every move of his body, every quirk of a facial muscle, his voice, his body of what Sebastian could see and those eyes replayed again and again in his mind. He had wanted more, he hadn't had the complete picture of Kurt, he knew there was so much more that he hadn't experienced yet or seen.

His voice, Sebastian hadn't even noticed how lyrical it was the first time. He'd been too focused on Kurt as an object of physical desire, a conquest. He had been focused on placing the slightest of accents and laughing at his companion's ridiculousness to really take his voice in fully. He was appreciating it far more now. He sounded different in English than French though, his voice even higher and lighter in English.

Did the deeper tone come naturally when he spoke French, mimicking the sounds he heard or did the language just require it? French women certainly had a more mature tone but it could also be the cigarettes.

"And are you going home, soon?" Sebastian found his own voice, not sure why it was so hard to speak with Kurt now. Everything they said balanced on a knife point, he was afraid of knocking them off of it.

"Not for awhile, no." This time it was Kurt offering double meanings to his words and Sebastian swallowed through the lump developing in his throat. He really, really wanted this man and from the look and sound of it, he wanted Sebastian too. His morals seemed to include a little bit of string free fun after all.

"Are you sure?" Sebastian asked.

"I haven't been making any other plans to the contrary." Kurt's smile was slow and seductive, he knew his own worth and charms.

Sebastian had an answering smile sliding across his own mouth. "Please, come into my studio, I have a painting I wanted to show you." He spread an arm out toward the doorway leading to his very private area. He let Kurt come closer before he started to move and he opened the door for Kurt as well. "If it pleases you, perhaps I can expand my collection to include something a little different."

Kurt's gasp was met with pleasure running through Sebastian's bones. There on the canvas he was working on was the best rendition he'd possibly be able to achieve of Kurt's eyes. The intensity challenged and put his madam's to shame. It was just his eyes and that strip of face taking up the entirety of the canvas and there was so much emotion without any other facial indicators. "Mona Lisa has nothing on this." Kurt stepped forward and didn't say anything else. It was already the best compliment anyone could give.

It had taken Sebastian all week to finish it and he was sure there was still more he could do, it would never match Kurt's actual eyes but he wouldn't touch it further. He didn't want to ruin what he had achieved.

"Do you think I could paint you like one of my French girls?" One painting would never suffice. There were too many sides to Kurt to ever hope to capture in one painting.

"That is definitely a step away from what you're famous for." Kurt finally looked away from the imitation of his eyes to glance over his shoulder as Sebastian.

Sebastian committed that look to memory, he got his first look to try and recreate just then. There was a bit of a mischievousness in Kurt's face, his eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement and surprise and flattery.

He didn't say no. He was incredibly pleased by Sebastian's departure of what he'd built his empire on. The fact that the departure included him was nearly overwhelming and Sebastian wanted to set him at ease. "It wouldn't be for public consumption." Just for his own private collection.

"Hmm..." Kurt turned and assessed Sebastian in return. "If I agree to be your muse, I might want something in return." He wouldn't be able to get any commission on a sale of his likeness, Sebastian would never be able to part with. He wasn't sure what Kurt would ask for payment and he waited to see what this unique being would request from him. "Have you ever done a self-portrait?"

That was definitely not what Sebastian had expected and it pulled a laugh from deep inside of him. "Ah, so we're back to that, are we?" Sebastian teased.

Kurt not denying it surprised him less than what he actually said. "Perhaps." There was a bit of a secretive smile playing along his lips.

Sebastian lifted a brow in amusement. "This wasn't exactly your tune last week."

"I don't exactly go into meetings with strangers with the intention to seduce them." Kurt ran his fingers lightly along Sebastian's work bench. "It's not usually my goal."

"But your goal is to seduce me?" Sebastian teased, more than willing to play along, wanted it just as much if not more than Kurt.

"Oh, I don't know." He sighed dramatically but both knew he knew exactly what he was doing and why. "I don't view us as strangers anymore. I have never felt so intimately seen before. Makes me feel a little reckless and to do something I am not accustomed to doing. I'm used to being chased but today I don't mind doing the chasing. Do you have any problems with this?" Kurt ended up right in front of Sebastian and his fingers were trailing up Sebastian's arm and shoulder, and a shiver went through him as those fingers brushed bare flesh of his neck and jaw.

Kurt was a few inches shorter than Sebastian and his fingers slid into the hair at the back of Sebastian's neck, guiding him down while Kurt lifted onto his toes. "I am used to doing the chasing. This is a refreshing change." Sebastian said, offering no resistance.

"Last chance." Kurt warned breathlessly before his lips claimed not only Sebastian's but his soul too. His heart had already been Kurt's the second they locked eyes without anything between them. The warning was too late, far too late, a week and a lifetime too late. Sebastian wrapped his arms around Kurt's slim and expertly clothed waist and pulled him tightly against him. There would be all the time in the world to capture him in his unwrinkled, pristine glory. He knew he'd lost whatever part of him that had been a seeker because it had found what it was looking for in Kurt and his embrace.

Sebastian didn't even bemoan his independence and freedom, it felt too good in Kurt's arms. He would be a happy captive but knew it wasn't the right expression. He was going to besotted and cared for and his entire future laid out in front of him as they crashed back into one of the easels that he'd had set up behind him. They fell together and it didn't hinder them in the slightest.

Whatever he was starting with Kurt today was unlocking a secret world that he'd always thought would be denied to him. All the money in the world wouldn't be able to gain him entry. It had to be given to him freely. There was a much larger world beyond that door than he'd ever imagined and he would have fun exploring it along side Kurt.

He was claimed but he got to claim too. And to think, if he hadn't just painted French girls before now, this would have never have come to be.

Right along with his madam, Kurt's eyes would reside and would capture anyone who entered his shop, but also like his madam, no one could ever purchase him. When Sebastian would look at the madam in the future, he would not feel her disapproving gaze upon him, but her approval and finally match the woman he knew in real life.

He thought about that though when he attempted to take 'Kurt' out of his studio. He didn't want the world to see him, not like that at any rate. This was just for him, and Kurt and anyone lucky enough to enter his studio space. He never did invite anyone back there again, it had become chiefly his and Kurt's private space. Kurt did become his sole model and was happy to sit for him whenever Sebastian asked.

So Sebastian had plenty of images of Kurt that he could choose from to put up next to the madam. He selected his next favorite, Kurt was looking over his shoulder at Sebastian, a quick, blurred image of his eyes behind him. The rest of those paintings? They littered the walls of their shared apartments around the world. Kurt had taken a lot more than a single piece with him and Sebastian got equal pieces of Kurt in return.

Once Sebastian sold his last current stock of French Girl painting, he never sold another one. He kept the shop open though but made it into a gallery with nothing for sale. He didn't care if the patrons thought he should expand his subject material a little, they were still always impressed when they left. Kurt had teased him about being so indulgent but Sebastian was never satisfied, there were so many more things he wanted to capture and still couldn't get all of Kurt no matter how long and often he tried. He would continue to try.

Soon though, a few more paintings joined the walls of his gallery and their apartments. He had promised Kurt a self-portrait and Kurt had demanded more over the years, he wanted one at every location they resided in. He didn't request one for the studio though, he got to look his fill of Sebastian there while Sebastian worked and never once teased him about being his muse or asked if he would get tired of him. The answer was obvious to both of them.

Rachel tried to wheedle a portrait of herself like one of his earlier works but he never gave her one. She had nearly ruined any chance he had with Kurt and for that he would never forgive her. It didn't matter that Kurt had taken up permanent residency in France when his boss Isabelle opened a position there just for him and they would have run into each other eventually.

Sebastian heard the bell tinkle over the door to the gallery. He didn't turn away from the portrait he was looking at. "She is quite exquisite, I never get over it. Even if she was one of your 'less skillful early works'." Kurt's words ran over his ear as his arms wrapped around Sebastian and his chin came to rest on Sebastian's shoulder, looking at the portrait as well. Sebastian leaned back into the embrace.

Now whenever Sebastian saw Kurt enter a room, it wasn't met with new lover, just my love. He'd mouth it to Kurt even across a room with a million people in between them. Kurt would echo it back.

"I wasn't looking at her. I barely see her these days." All he could ever see was Kurt and he never got tired of it. There weren't enough portraits of him, he wanted him around even more than he had him. Yet nothing could ever compare to the real thing and he turned in Kurt's arms to turn and kiss him hello. All the men in the world would have never managed to collectively begin to fill Kurt's place. All the portraits of Kurt would never begin to take the place of the real deal, were just place holders until he could see Kurt in person again.

"You will have to expand your palate soon." Kurt teased once Sebastian's head pulled back. "Otherwise we'll have a very unhappy girl on our hands in a few years."

"You didn't go and find out the sex without me, did you?" Sebastian wasn't upset and both knew it. They'd both known that's where Kurt was heading that day, knew it was that day.

"You'll need to bust out your paintbrushes again because you'll have a very specific French Girl you'll need to paint often and through the years as she grows."

Sebastian laughed and pulled Kurt in for another kiss and a hug. "You'll never just be one of my French girls and I'll make sure she knows she's not either."

"But she is going to be our French girl." Kurt lifted their linked hands and kissed the back of their fingers. "Our very own French girl."

"Ours." Sebastian agreed, so happy he'd stepped out to greet the man who's eye had been caught by his very first one. It was purely by chance, Kurt had never heard of Sebastian before entering his shop. There would be no others who would grace his canvases and by request, Sebastian expanded his subject to include not only individuals from now on, but a variety of their family in different arrangements.

He had been proven wrong on one point though in the end. There was soon one more person in the world with Kurt's eyes but were still uniquely hers and they'd welcomed her into their little world together. Sebastian got his wish, he was now surrounded by those eyes and it would never be enough.

He thanked whatever brought Kurt into his life that fateful day as he listened to an iconic French girl sing about love. He'd found a love everlasting himself that day. He would never let anyone stop the song from playing out, he didn't want it to ever be cut short. No matter how cliché or how often they heard it as they walked down the streets of Paris hand in hand in hand. He would share a look with Kurt over their daughter's head and both knew what the other was thinking. And if they were guilty of riding a gondola and snuggling together while being sung to by their guide, they didn't feel badly about it. Those kinds of things were meant for lovers, after all.

His was a love that would never end.

The bell tinkled above his shop and he heard the music switch to La Vie En Rose before he looked away from his latest piece of their daughter before her first day of school.

He turned his head to see Kurt dropping his trench coat and wearing absolutely nothing else underneath it. Sebastian quickly threw a blanket over the painting he was working on. "Kurt?" He was excited and not really that curious about what he was up to, he had his suspicions and knew they'd be right.

Kurt moved over to the little podium and moved into a pose of pure seduction. "Paint me like one of your French Girls." It wasn't a request. His words may have been making a demand to be painted but his eyes were demanding something else, it was a come hither look if Sebastian had ever seen one.

Sebastian took his fill as he looked over Kurt, memorizing every detail, this was something they could easily recreate. "Later." He promised and started taking off his own clothes as he joined Kurt on that podium. "Did you lock the door?"

"Of course. I even turned the sign to let them know that you were closed for the rest of the day." Kurt smiled seductively and Sebastian moved over him to lock his lips onto Kurt's.

"French girls will never have anything on you, my American boy." Kurt's laughter was cut off short as Sebastian had better plans for Kurt's mouth.