After an argument over a lane change and one joke too far, Sebastian proves to Kurt that he's exactly the man Kurt thinks he is.
"So" - Kurt purrs, sliding across his seat to whisper in his husband's ear – a risky move while the man's driving, but not risky enough to keep Kurt in his own seat. This is the first date they've been on sans child and dog in over a month, and it ended far too soon. They're on their way home. In about half an hour, they'll be on-the-clock parents again. Kurt intends on making the most out of every second they have alone together - "what did you think of the show?"
"Well" – Sebastian grins as Kurt starts kissing his neck – "it would've been better with more strippers."
"Sebastian" – Kurt chuckles – "it's The Sound of Music. There are no strippers in The Sound of Music!"
"No wonder I was falling asleep." Sebastian spreads his legs as his husband's hand slides between them.
"And most of the actors were children!"
"If they replaced the children with strippers, then that would be a show worth watching."
Kurt stops palming his husband's crotch as he stares at the man in disbelief, then he snorts. He can't help himself. The Van Trapp Family Strippers is too funny no matter who you are.
"How about when we get home I put on a show worth watching?"
"Hmm" - Sebastian hums as his husband nibbles his neck - "will you be wearing lederhosen?"
"I think that could be arranged." Kurt nuzzles deeper into the crook of Sebastian's neck, following its curve as Sebastian leans to the side, exposing more skin.
Sebastian skillfully changes lanes as Kurt begins to unbutton his shirt. "Is this a sneak preview? Because if it is, I think I shit!"
Kurt snorts again, fully prepared to comment about his kisses making his husband mess his pants and whether or not that's a compliment, but he flies abruptly forward, and that ruins the mood. Sebastian shoots an arm out to catch him, so instead of going full force into the dash, his arm whacks the steering wheel.
"Bas!"
"I'm … I'm sorry but … uh! That frickin' van just cut us off!"
"Which van?" Kurt faces the windshield to catch a glimpse. There's only one van on the road with them – an old school, Ford delivery van painted glossy grey, and decorated with mouse ears and a tail. Kurt sighs. He knows this van, knows that the front has a nose and whiskers to match. He doesn't have to see the name on the side to know who it belongs to. "Oh."
"Oh?" Sebastian side-eyes his husband in disgust. Who was this man returning calmly to the passenger seat as if some random asshole hadn't cut them off, stopping what could have become an impromptu in-ride blowjob? Where did Kurt suddenly disappear to – the man who once tackled a pregnant woman pushing a child in a stroller during a Black Friday sale to snag the last Valentino sweater on clearance (even though they found out later on she had had no intention of buying it)? Sebastian had been fully prepared to live vicariously as Kurt tore the driver of that van a new one, rolling down the window and throwing out one-of-a-kind expletives that would make for some kinky ass stroke material later on. Had getting married and having a son made his husband soft? "What do you mean oh? Sic 'em, Kurt!"
Kurt rolls his eyes. "I mean oh. It's Mrs. Palmer's Cutie Cakes van, what we down at the PTA call the mouse mobile."
"You say that like it should mean something."
"Cutie Cakes is that mom and pop bakery off of 17th and Maple. Well, mom and son now. The woman who runs it is a legend. She makes all of her cakes and pastries by hand every single day. Wakes up at the butt crack of dawn to do it, too. Has since the shop opened. And she's about eighty years older than God."
Sebastian shoots his husband a disgruntled look. "Are you … are you telling me some blue haired lol is driving that van!?"
"More than likely."
"That shouldn't be legal!"
"I don't think it is, but who's going to call her out on it? I mean, she has a run in with the police about once every other week and yet she still has her driver's license. If they can't get her to stop driving, who will?"
Sebastian sees the van veer towards the exit that leads to Maple, blinker indicating that's where it's getting off. He straightens in his seat and changes lanes in pursuit. "I will."
Kurt stares at his husband in silence. For a second, Sebastian thinks Kurt is impressed by his initiative, by his willingness to take charge. But Kurt bursts out laughing, and the boner Sebastian got from his husband's misperceived look of awe withers and dies.
Sebastian frowns. "What?"
"You're going to call her out on it?"
"Yes, I am."
"Right." Kurt bites his lower lip, staring out the windshield as he pictures such a confrontation going down, how epically his husband would lose. "O-kay."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I know you, Bas. You like people to think you're all big and bad, but really you're a huge softie."
"Is that so?" Sebastian snaps. He tries to growl, but it doesn't come easy for him. Not the way it used to, and that makes him seethe.
"That's so. I can see it now …" Kurt watches the grey van pull into the parking lot of the Cutie Cakes bakery up ahead. The store front has gone through many transformations over the decades, so he's heard. Since they moved into town, it has been a wood cottage, the kind one can imagine a tiny baker mouse living in.
Kurt has to admit, the premise is adorable. And brilliant.
The van's engine turns off, and its owner climbs out. The vehicle sits higher off the ground than the woman can manage, so she pulls out a custom decorated, white washed wood stepstool and sets it down on the cement. Then foot by foot, she carefully climbs down. It makes Kurt's heart melt.
His husband doesn't stand a chance.
"… you're going to walk in there," Kurt continues, hand over his heart as the woman locks up her van and walks into her bakery, "she's going to remind you of your grandmother, your favorite person in the whole wide world, and you're going to buy her out. You'll see."
"Wow." Sebastian clicks his tongue. "You really know how to hurt a guy."
Kurt considers his husband's remark with a quirk of his eyebrow. "Hurt? How did I hurt you? I'm saying you loved your grandma and you're not an asshole. Isn't that a compliment, all things considered?"
"Not being an asshole is one thing. Being a pushover is another."
Kurt shakes his head. "I think you're overreacting."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
"Fine." Sebastian screeches into the lot the second the front door of the bakery closes with the proprietor safely inside and finds a spot one over from the grey van. "I'll show you who's a big softie!" He puts the car into park, throws the door open, angrily unbuckles his seat belt, and climbs out. He takes a step, then turns to his husband for one final dig. "You ever seen an old lady cry, Kurt? Well, pay attention!" Then he slams the door shut in Kurt's face. The interior light fades to black as Sebastian storms to the door, leaving Kurt horrified and dumbfounded.
"Sebastian! No! Wait, I …" Kurt leans over the center console to peer out the driver's side window. "Sebastian!" he calls louder, even though it's fruitless. He sits in his seat and watches. He has a front row seat to the tragedy unfolding through the picture window of the bakery, and the show is about to begin.
He can see Mrs. Palmer untying the drapes, getting ready to lock up for the night as Sebastian confronts her. His mouth tightens, lips forming words Kurt can't hear through several panes of glass, but which he can make out by sight: "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Palmer?"
He sees the kindly woman say, "Yes, dear. I am."
Sebastian raises an accusing finger.
Mrs. Palmer pulls the drapes.
Then Kurt doesn't see or hear a thing from either of them for close to twenty minutes. Several times he considers opening the window to try and hear the conversation going on inside, maybe even go up to the front door and listen in, but he can't make himself do it.
He can't make himself witness his husband berate a poor, old woman over a lane change.
He never believed in a million years Sebastian would. Sebastian has changed. He's changed! It took time, and counseling, and about a hundred first dates before Kurt could believe it, but Sebastian worked hard to overcome the aspect of the boy he was back in high school.
That's why Kurt fell in love with him. Because of the two men Kurt loved – the only two men Kurt had ever loved – Sebastian is the one who made a promise to be a better man and kept it. Was that all a façade? Was Sebastian really still the jilted, sarcastic, bitter boy he'd been? Was that lurking somewhere deep inside, waiting to be stoked to life? When would it surface again? When he was angry at Kurt?
Or at Thomas?
Kurt doesn't want to have these doubts about his husband. His husband was … is … is a good man. One of the best Kurt has ever met.
Was that all just spin, created by himself, to avoid the truth? That a leopard can't change his spots?
Kurt hears the door of the bakery open. From his peripheral vision, he sees light flood the parking lot, then snuff out when the door closes, the loud click of a deadbolt ringing in the quiet. Kurt can't look at his husband when the man returns to the car, shuffling his feet. Kurt holds his breath as the shick-shick-shick of leather soles on gravel comes nearer.
He can't believe it. He just can't believe it.
Kurt swallows hard realizing he is in no way blameless in all of this. He goaded Sebastian, knew that with the right amount of teasing, he could get him to react. But Kurt thought it would turn into a battle of jabs that wouldn't leave the car – slightly sharp, a bit of sting, but within the boundaries of juvenile pigtail pulling and sticking out tongues.
Can he respect his husband after going through with this?
The driver's door opens, but Sebastian doesn't get in, standing like a statue, looking over the top of the car.
Kurt swallows again, a mixture of his own shame and a cold, hard fear landing in his stomach like lead. There's an apology in his mouth, waiting for his chance to take a share of the blame for what his husband might have done, but he can't say it yet.
He has to know what happened.
"S-so?" Kurt asks.
Sebastian doesn't answer, and Kurt can't see his face, his body blocking the door while he stares off into the distance. Kurt hears his husband sigh - the long sigh of a man who's done something he can't take back.
And when Kurt sees exactly what Sebastian can't take back, he sighs with relief, giddy with it, till it takes everything in his power not to laugh his head off.
Sebastian bends down and hands him a pink box wrapped in candy cane string – not a normal, perfectly square, 8-inch round cake sized box, but a long, rectangular box.
The kind you can fit around three dozen donuts in.
Kurt puts the box in his lap and then, simply to try his restraint, Kurt assumes, Sebastian hands him another one.
Sebastian drops into his car seat, closes his door, buckles his seatbelt, and turns the key in the ignition. Through the reflection in the rearview and with the help of the dash lights, Kurt can see Sebastian's eyes, a little redder than they had been when he left the car.
As if he might have been crying.
What the hell did happen in that bakery!?
Kurt takes a breath, ready to ask for details, but Sebastian cuts him off before the first syllable even thinks of leaving his mouth. "Don't. Say. A. Word."