The mellow and fuzzy, blurry around the edges feeling of waking up in a place of relative safety surrounds Kurt, bit by bit trying its best to stomp down his unease that he's actually been lured by a charming stranger into a false sense of security. But since no one is bugging him to wake up, no one yelling at him or kicking him to start the day, he decides to take a little extra time and enjoy it. He doesn't blink into the sunlight that paints a golden stripe across his face, relying on his body to become aware of his surroundings so that he can luxuriate in the pleasure of this unfamiliar situation that he's in – this new way that he earns his keep.
Waking up in the arms of a handsome gentleman.
As he revives in pieces from his toes to his head, he registers something pushing against his belly.
Something hard.
A shy smile slips onto his sleepy face.
Before Sebastian, Kurt had never shared a bed with another man. During his training, it was forbidden, and as time went on, it was a policy he maintained. Being the regent's favorite meant that he got to make that decision, and for that, he was more blessed than some. But he quite likes this, sleeping with Sebastian, and as for the unexpected hard-on resting against his stomach, Kurt knows it's just a physical reaction. It happens to most men in the early hours of the morning. It has nothing to do with him.
Kurt was taught this.
He was also taught to repress it in his own body, trained at length to defy nature.
But nature is good. Nature feels right. Maybe he can re-teach his body to do the things it's supposed to.
Maybe Sebastian can teach him.
Hiding behind closed lids and biting his lower lip, Kurt scoots closer to Sebastian, snuggling further into his arms, pressing his body against him. Sebastian mumbles into Kurt's hair, then as Kurt wraps his arms around him tighter, Sebastian moans, rutting against him and placing kisses on the top of Kurt's head.
"Mmm…" Sebastian murmurs, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He mutters other incoherent words, and then a single name. "Aaron."
Aaron. That must be the name of Sebastian's husband, Kurt thinks. He frowns. Of course Sebastian would dream about his husband. Sebastian seems to really love him. Kurt has never known love like that. A man has never had reason to mumble Kurt's name in his sleep, so Kurt shouldn't expect it.
Yet still, it stings, but not for the ridiculous, immature, and selfish reason of Kurt thinking that after two days this man would be dreaming about him.
But because Sebastian will wake up to a used slave boy in his bed instead of the man of his dreams.
Kurt suddenly feels guilty for hugging Sebastian so tight.
He tries to pull away, but Sebastian's arms wind around him, his lips lightly dusting Kurt's forehead.
"Sebastian," Kurt says, hoping to wake the man up before there can be any more misunderstandings between them. "Sebastian, wake up."
"Nu-uh," Sebastian refuses, his kisses moving down Kurt's cheek in search of his neck.
"Sebastian, no," Kurt tries again, but finds himself moving his head to give the man better access to his skin.
"Aaron?" Sebastian mutters, his mouth cocking in a slight grin. "Why are you…"
Sebastian opens his eyes, his words freezing in his mouth when he sees Kurt's skin beneath his lips, the young boy's blue eyes staring back at him.
"Oh…Kurt," Sebastian says quietly, losing the smile on his face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" Kurt braces for Sebastian to reject him, to push him away, but he doesn't. He loosens his grip on Kurt's body though, reaching a hand between them and shifting his hips to readjust himself.
"No, I'm sorry," Kurt says. "You were…I mean, I felt…I…I didn't mean to…"
Sebastian smiles at Kurt's rambling, enjoying his adorably flustered reaction tainted slightly by how worried Kurt looks that Sebastian might lash out, maybe punish him.
Or leave him.
"Hey, it's alright. Calm down," Sebastian says, putting a hand to the back of Kurt's head and lightly scratching his scalp. "No harm done."
Kurt suspects that isn't entirely true, not by the way Sebastian's eyes shine with the dream of waking up with his husband in his arms, but Kurt's not going to push him. He doesn't want Sebastian to feel obligated to discuss things that might be too fresh, too uncomfortable to talk about, especially since discussing his husband will inevitably lead to talking about his son, and that could be a whole different rack causing Sebastian pain.
"Alright," Kurt says. "Thank you."
Sebastian nods in response, taking a moment to brush the hair out of Kurt's face, tracing down his cheekbones with his thumbs, ending at his lips.
"I think we should get an early start," Sebastian suggests, eyes still locked on Kurt's face, not ready to relinquish his dream so quickly. "Get on the road before it gets too hot. We may have to camp out tonight. I hope that's not a bother."
"Not at all," Kurt says, but that's a partial untruth of his own. He's had to spend many nights sleeping on the hard earth with nothing to shield him from the cold, nothing to keep the insects from crawling all over him, making a meal of him while he was too weak to swat them away. Thinking about it makes him shiver unconsciously. Sebastian feels it, and seems to know what it means.
"We'll have the cart to bed down in," Sebastian assures him, "and I have plenty of blankets to keep us from the cold. I promise, it won't be bad."
Kurt nods and smiles, though no assurance in the world can chase those memories away.
Before they get out of bed, Sebastian applies another layer of ointment to Kurt's wound. Kurt isn't convinced that it will do any good - that it will make the burn fade - but he wouldn't trade this moment for anything. Sebastian's fingertips on his skin, lightly tracing the mark, carefully applying a thin film of the cooling salve, are as close to friendship as he's ever felt. He focuses on it, captures it, stores it in his brain with the other fragments of memory he feeds off of to keep himself going when times get tough.
They always do. He shouldn't delude himself into thinking that will change.
Kurt and Sebastian dress for the day in light colored clothing to reflect the afternoon sun and allow the cool breeze – when there is one - to seep through. They discover quickly that Sebastian's room is small for two men changing clothes. Kurt assumed Sebastian would go elsewhere to dress, the way he did to bathe, but he seems preoccupied and in a hurry. If, perhaps, there's another reason he decides not to leave this time, he doesn't voice it.
They both avoid looking at one another too much, but when Kurt bends at the waist to put on a pair of shoes Sebastian lent him, he catches a glimpse of Sebastian stripping off his pants. All Kurt manages is a peek of his leg from the middle of his thigh to his ankle, but it's enough to make Kurt stop for a second and stare.
Kurt has seen his fair share of naked flesh in his life, but the men in his bed were recycled bodies, all pretty much alike – soft, pompous, arrogant, privileged members of the regent's court who considered themselves too good for an honest day's labor, unskilled to even tie their own shoes in some cases.
But not Sebastian.
Kurt knew from the cut of his arms and his chest that Sebastian was no stranger to hard work. He must also spend a good portion of his time atop his horse, Kurt concludes, because his leg is entirely muscle. Kurt hadn't really taken notice when their bodies were pressed together in sleep – too tired and confused to worry about the specifics of Sebastian's body. Before he can bend lower to get a better view, Sebastian tugs on his clean pants and stands to do up the front, shooting a knowing glance down at the eyes that he can feel on him, and Kurt, with reddening cheeks, looks away.
Kurt waits till Sebastian turns his back, then sneaks his purse containing his five gold coins out from under the mattress and shoves it in his pocket. Without letting on that he knows, Sebastian smiles, waiting till he hears the jingling of coins die down before he turns back around.
They eat while they pack - a breakfast of hot porridge, again with brown sugar and butter on top, and another tall mug of milk. Kurt smiles with every sip, remembering Sebastian's speech from the night before. He imagines Sebastian at a dinner table, not as rough-hewn as this small, round table, with his husband and son, giving his boy the same lecture – calling him thin and pushing a mug of milk on him along with an extra serving of dinner. It makes Kurt grin wider to picture them that way, but it wavers when he remembers that Sebastian is alone in the world now. He has no family to return to. At least Kurt has his father, if they ever find him. But regardless, Kurt knows he's out there somewhere, missing Kurt, wondering about him, waiting for him to find a way home.
Sebastian makes Kurt eat every last bite of his breakfast, sitting him down and watching him with hawk eyes till he finishes. After the meal is done and the bags and trunk packed, they start loading everything up into Sebastian's cart. When Sebastian had mentioned his cart, it immediately brought to Kurt's mind the cramped wooden wagon on two crooked wheels that Kurt had been bound, blindfolded, and thrown into before he was left on the side of the road. But this cart of Sebastian's is actually a buckboard - large, rectangular in shape, with more than enough room for supplies, and later, for the two of them to lie comfortably in. Sebastian teaches Kurt how to prepare his horse for the journey, how to brush him down, how to make sure his shoes are set right and clean, and his hooves sound. Finally, Sebastian shows Kurt how to attach the horse to the rig.
Kurt didn't have to work in the stables at the regent's house, even when he was punished. It was considered a disgrace far below his station. Besides, the punishments Kurt suffered were tailor made for him, and therefore exceptionally cruel in nature. But being around the animals in the stable and the yard fills him with calm, makes him feel safe.
It reminds him of home.
He's almost disappointed when Sebastian says they have to leave.
"Here you go, lovelies." The kindly woman from the inn catches them before they climb into Sebastian's cart, bustling out to the buckboard with her arms full. "I packed you up a little something for your trip." Kurt stares with open-mouthed disbelief at what she calls a little something. She hands Kurt a bulging basket, and to Sebastian, an equally bulging sack. Kurt doesn't have to open the basket to tell it's crammed with food. She sets it into his arms and he nearly drops to the ground with its weight. She chuckles, watching him with crinkled eyes and a motherly smile as he teeters, struggling to find his feet again. Once he steadies himself, he feels the warmth of freshly baked food bleeding through the basket weave. He takes a deep breath and inhales dozens of delicious smells. Kurt can't imagine that she does this for all her boarders. This basket carries in it a kindness that goes far beyond the food within.
"Thank you, Carole," Sebastian says, putting the sack (which Kurt can tell has more food in it by the impressions the jars and cans make leaning into the thick material) into the cart and returning to give the woman a hug. "Thank you for all your hospitality."
"It's the least I can do," she says, patting Sebastian on the back and hugging him tight. "And you take care of this one…" She breaks from Sebastian's embrace and heads for Kurt, engulfing him in her arms before he has a chance to protest – not that he would. She's one of the few people he has met who have looked at him from the start like he has value, though why, he doesn't understand. She must know what he is by now, even if Sebastian didn't tell her. Apparently, his situation is more obvious than he first thought, and that knowledge in retrospect - reflecting back on the places he has already been and the people who extended him kindness - makes him overwhelmingly self-conscious.
"That I will," Sebastian says. They don't sound like empty words to Kurt's ears, and he prays that Sebastian means them, that he isn't posturing to put this poor woman's mind at ease. But Kurt can't mistake her generosity and compassion for naïvete. Carole rules the roost here, and Kurt feels certain that if she thought Sebastian meant to abuse him, she would find a way to make Kurt stay, maybe have her two brute employees send Sebastian on his way without him. In her every glance, she seems confident that Sebastian means to take care of him, and that's a good enough recommendation for Kurt.
Kurt and Sebastian climb into the buckboard and Sebastian takes the reins. He clicks his tongue and that's all he needs to do to get the horse moving. The stallion takes a few steps at an easy pace and the buckboard lurches forward to follow. Sebastian grabs a wide brim straw hat and puts it on his head, shading his eyes from the sun that's been climbing steadily during the long morning, but seems to be speeding its ascent. Kurt looks around him at the village they're passing through – the shops and stalls he hadn't had a chance to see in the short time he'd been there, the people bustling about their daily routines, minding their own business. Sitting in Sebastian's buckboard, wearing what he's come to assume are his son's old clothes, Kurt blends in. Off the road and out of his rags, he's become anonymous.
Kurt stares at Sebastian, the man's green eyes fixed on the road ahead, but a few seconds in, they dart Kurt's way.
"Somethin' on your mind?" he asks, clicking his tongue again to get his horse to speed up.
"Do you know her well? That woman from the inn?" Kurt asks, glancing back over his shoulder to give Carole another wave, Sebastian's eyes following him, watching how Kurt smiles for the older woman.
"You can say that," Sebastian says. "I stay here quite a bit. It's mid-way between where I'm coming from and where I'm going. We've gotten to talking. We have a few things in common."
Kurt gazes off into the distance, at the long stretch of dirt road he'd be walking if Sebastian hadn't found him – the one he'd still be walking, if he didn't drop dead first.
"Does she have any children?" Kurt asks, wanting his question to sound idle, with no suspicions attached, but Sebastian is a smart man.
"She had a son," Sebastian says. "Around your age when they took him."
Kurt nods, holding back a gasp. He doesn't want to sound surprised. The regent's men break up families all the time, but it amazes Kurt how far his arm reaches.
"Do you think…" Kurt starts, knowing it's better not to hope, but Carole is such a sweet woman. She deserves happiness.
Sebastian puts a hand on Kurt's knee.
"They sent him off to war," Sebastian says solemnly. "He came home in a box."
This time Kurt does gasp, swallowing a multitude of tears, and he wishes he had thought to hug Carole a little longer. His hands creep up his arms, wrapping around his waist, looking for a way to give himself comfort.
"We're all connected out here," Sebastian says, squeezing Kurt's knee before moving his hand away. "All bound by a similar pain, so in a way, we're all friends, even with the people we haven't met. And now you, little one, are one of us."
Kurt smiles, but it's hard to feel comforted by his inclusion in this group. It's a membership he's been forced into. Sebastian notices that. He notices the smile Kurt had for Carole disappear from his face, the cheery youth bleeding from his eyes.
"So, give me some idea where it is we're headed," he says in an effort to take Kurt's mind off Carole, her son, and everything they're leaving to the past.
Kurt's eyes snap up so quickly, Sebastian swear he hears them move.
"You mean, I'm going to be leading us?" Kurt goes nearly white and Sebastian laughs.
"Yup," Sebastian teases; the squeak Kurt lets out is completely worth it.
"But…but I…"
"Relax, kid. You're not leading us entirely," Sebastian says, letting Kurt off the hook. Kurt's jaw tightens, but to keep from smiling. Sebastian spots the corners of Kurt's mouth trying to lift, wishing he had coaxed that smile into blossoming. "I have business I have to do, and you're kind of along for the ride, but I need to have some idea whereabouts we're going to find your dad."
"I don't remember much," Kurt says apologetically.
"I know," Sebastian answers, his voice soft. "Just, maybe, close your eyes and try to picture what home looked like, as much as you can, then tell me what you see. Any detail will help, no matter how small."
Kurt nods and does what Sebastian says. He closes his eyes and drudges up pictures home, his mom and dad, and what life was like before the regent's house.
"We lived on a farm," he starts, relaying the information that he's without-a-doubt certain of, the stuff he repeated to himself when the masters tried to brainwash him, so that no matter what, he wouldn't forget – hoping that someday he might make it home. "It was near a pond, but it was barely that – more like a hole in the ground filled in with water when it rained, though somehow it had a few fish in it."
"Big farm or small?"
"Small," Kurt answers quickly. "We only had the two fields, and we grew wheat mostly, like everyone else. Peanuts, sometimes."
Sebastian takes the information in and sets it to memory, using it to picture the farm for himself, imagining Kurt – a younger, innocent and carefree Kurt – running through the fields, playing, swimming in that pond.
"What else did your folks raise on the farm?"
Kurt squeezes his eyes tighter, shutting out every inch of sunlight, his memories becoming clearer in the sepia-tinted dark.
"Cows, chickens, sheep," Kurt ticks off. "We had a horse."
"You guys had livestock?" Sebastian asks, sounding shocked. "Livestock and crops? How could you possibly do both?"
"How is that odd?" Kurt asks. "You're a rancher."
"Yeah, but I primarily keep a horse and move herds," Sebastian says, steering the horse off to a left fork in the road. "Grazing animals - that's another matter. Most land around here is bone dry. Heck, I'm amazed anyone can survive out here."
"I wasn't from around here," Kurt says, his voice sounding small. "When the regent's men took me from my parents, it took five days to get to the regent's house, traveling night and day without stopping."
"Five days," Sebastian repeats, chewing on the words as if that timeframe has meaning to him. "Five days."
"Does that…is that familiar to you?" Kurt asks, watching Sebastian's eyes wander left and right, looking more at his thoughts than the land ahead.
"I don't know," Sebastian says. "It might." He drops it, eyes still moving over the landscape but his thoughts somewhere else, somewhere long gone. Sebastian's answer makes no sense to Kurt. How can Sebastian not know? How does he not know his own mind? But Kurt doesn't let it bother him. Sebastian is helping him. Kurt doesn't need to hound the man for details of what he does and does not know.
Traveling by buckboard is more comfortable than riding in the wooden cart…though not by much. After hours sitting upright on the hard wooden bench, Kurt's back begins to ache, his legs start to feel stiff, and his rear end has fallen asleep. Still, Kurt is thankful that this time he has his hands and legs free. They don't stop for rests and Kurt doesn't ask to. They eat their lunch as they ride, breaking into the basket and supping on pulled meat sandwiches, washing them down with water from a canteen. They speak very little. Kurt can tell that Sebastian is preoccupied, so he enjoys the quiet and leaves Sebastian to his thoughts.
Kurt watches the world move alongside them. Admittedly, there isn't much to see – no trees, no grass, no animals, very few birds. There's dirt to all sides of them and more of it ahead. The view changes only slightly as the sun continues to rise, growing hotter by the hour, juggling the mirages around. As they trundle along, the horse kicks up loose dust, burning Kurt's eyes. They water and tear, dripping muddy trails down his cheeks. Watching Kurt struggle with his sight, Sebastian puts his hat on Kurt's head, which does help, but more and more Kurt closes his eyes to block out the glare.
The next time Kurt opens them, the sun has moved from his sight, and the sky has changed vistas from blue to golden. Kurt's body has gone from stiff to sore, and he's laying horizontal across the buckboard bench, curled in a partial fetal position…with his head in Sebastian's lap. He unwinds his limbs, but his muscles scream to be left alone, his left leg threatening to cramp if he tries to sit up.
"There you are, sleeping beauty," Sebastian says with a chuckle, taking both reins in his left hand and using his right to help Kurt back up in his seat.
"Did I…fall asleep?" Kurt asks. Sebastian rolls his eyes with Kurt slowly realizing how ridiculous a thing it was to ask.
"Yeah," Sebastian says. "You've been out for a couple of hours. I even stopped to water my horse. You almost fell out, that's when I laid you down."
"I'm sorry," Kurt says. "I didn't…I don't mean to be rude."
"It's alright," Sebastian says, reaching out to give Kurt's shoulder a squeeze. "I didn't think you'd be completely up to par anyhow. But we're going to be stopping for the night soon, just over the next ridge."
Kurt moves his eyes to the horizon to look for the next ridge, but all he sees is dirt. If there's any distinction, any contour to the land, Kurt doesn't see it, and like with many things lately, he'll have to take Sebastian at his word.
Sunset simmers just a hair above the horizon when they finally reach Sebastian's chosen camping spot.
"There's no watering hole around here," Sebastian says as he sets the brakes on his buckboard. "But we'll be at one tomorrow."
"That's alright," Kurt says, rubbing his dry eyes with his fingertips. "I don't think I could stand to take a bath anyway. My muscles don't want to move." He yawns. "Who knew that sitting all day could be so tiring?"
Through the slits in his eyelids, Kurt sees a comment leap to Sebastian's mind, possibly something along the lines of the one he made when they first met – about Kurt being good for nothing but sitting on silk pillows. Whatever the comment, Sebastian bites his lip and says nothing.
"Are you certain you don't want to clean up a little?" he asks instead.
Kurt shakes his head. "I'm good."
Sebastian looks into Kurt's weary face, eyes that have squinted all day beneath the sun softening with the fading light. He raises a finger and runs it down Kurt's cheek, making a clean streak down his dirty skin and then showing Kurt the evidence on his fingertip. Kurt's sleepy eyes pop open. He screws up his face and Sebastian chuckles. "You can take a cloth and one of the canteens and clean up. Wipe off the dust and the sweat and get yourself something clean to wear. I'm going to take care of the horse."
"Do you need any help?" Kurt asks, watching Sebastian leap down from the buckboard and head for the animal.
"Nah," Sebastian says with a wave. "Thing's worn out and you're still kind of new. Best if I do this myself."
Kurt nods, climbing into the back of the buckboard and rummaging through the trunk of clothes to find a washing cloth while Sebastian tends to his horse. Kurt hears music – a whispered singing – and he stops to watch. There's a process to everything Sebastian does, a method, and it's almost relaxing to watch him work. He unhitches the horse from the cart, but he doesn't tie him to a nearby rock. Kurt has never known anyone to have that much trust in an animal. How does Sebastian know the beast isn't going to run off? That quality, that level of loyalty, is not something that can be trained. Sebastian runs a hand down the horse's nose and talks to him quietly. As long as Sebastian keeps talking, the horse doesn't move, content to stay with his master.
Kurt can understand that. Had he been treated nicer, had he been shown any love or affection, he might have been content to stay at the regent's house.
But kindness itself can be a trap. He'd seen another young slave become attached to a visitor at court. The man stayed the weekend with the slave – a boy younger and less experienced than Kurt. The visitor lavished attention on the slave, gave him gifts, dressed him in fine clothes. He did not allow anyone to raise a hand to the slave, and the boy, so starved for attention, fell hopelessly in love. Kurt thought that promises may have been made between them, and he became seeded with jealousy, thinking that this boy might actually get Kurt's wish – that he might leave the regent's house a free man. But at weekend's end, the stranger left without the boy, and it broke the boy's heart. When Kurt looked upon him from that day forth, he seemed empty, hollow. He didn't smile, he didn't laugh. He cared nothing for food or drink. Kurt remembered thinking what a ridiculous folly it all was, being heartbroken over a man like that, knowing what his station was, that slaves were meant to be used, not loved.
Now Kurt understands why the boy behaved that way. He sees the proof of it with his own eyes as the horse nuzzles into Sebastian's neck and then stays where Sebastian leaves him, unmoving, secured solely by his devotion.
That horse loves Sebastian, and Sebastian loves his horse. Sebastian feeds him and cares for him, like any master would, but he also sings to him, whispers to him, putting a blanket over his back and doing the equivalent of tucking him in for the night. This tenderness puts into bas-relief how lonely and lacking the years of Kurt's life have been.
All the time Kurt spent in the regent's house, he mattered less than a horse.
The night is comfortable and without any breeze, but Sebastian builds a fire anyway, to ward wild animals away. The silence from the trail continues around the campfire but it's a mutually agreed upon silence – with Sebastian pondering their route and their destination (Kurt assumes) and Kurt trying hard not to think about what the future might hold for him. He's gotten farther in his quest than he ever thought possible, but in many ways he feels even more lost, adrift, with no view of what lies ahead or behind. Sebastian must have ridden these roads a hundred times if he can find his way in these barren lands without a map or a compass, and that is both impressive and saddening.
It puts into Kurt's mind the image of a man wandering aimlessly since his anchor in life has gone.
They work their way through a pair of meat pies and half a loaf of crusty bread. Even with his nap on the trail, Kurt yawns behind his hand after every bite. Chewing becomes difficult, his jaw heavier and heavier. He rests his eyes and his head follows, tilting to the right and relaxing against his shoulder, the cracking and snapping of the fire lulling him back to sleep.
"Come along, little one," he hears through the song of the firelight, "before you plant yourself in the dirt." Kurt murmurs something in acknowledgment, and it earns him a laugh. The sound of that laughter is sweet, and Kurt is tempted to repeat what he said, if he can, so he can hear it again. He's lifted into the air and he feels like he's floating, his skin cooling as he travels away from the fire. It's almost the same feeling as bobbing on water, weightless, careless, helpless, letting the world propel him left and right with no say as to where he might travel or where he'll end up.
That's been the way of things for most of his life, and it's made him feel trapped.
But at this moment, that same sensation makes him feel free.
He's lowered onto a blanket – a bed of blankets really – and he starts to drift to off, figuring Sebastian will return to the fire and leave him to sleep. But the buckboard shifts and Kurt feels a body lie on the blankets beside him, pulling another blanket up over them.
"Mmm, Sebastian?" Kurt mumbles.
"You have a good idea here," Sebastian says, for some reason needing to explain. "I'm pretty worn out myself, and we'll be starting early again tomorrow."
"…the fire…" Kurt says other words around those two, but even he can't make them out.
"It'll burn itself down," Sebastian says. "Nothing out here but dirt and more dirt anyhow, and there's no wind strong enough to carry the embers this far."
Sebastian wraps his arms around Kurt and holds him close, and where this should help Kurt go straight to sleep, it seems to wake him up inside. Feeling Sebastian's body beside his reminds Kurt of the morning, when Kurt woke with Sebastian hard against him, and how Sebastian had mistaken Kurt for his husband – for Aaron.
But the feelings that mistake stirred up inside Kurt haunt him. Sebastian loves another man, loves him deeply, loves him with everything, even though he's gone.
And Kurt got to feel that love for a blessed moment.
He wants more of it, even if it doesn't belong to him.
But that's cruel. He shouldn't want it, and he shouldn't take things that don't belong to him.
In the regent's house, stealing was a crime punishable by whipping. Kurt had never stolen anything. But maybe he could take something for himself – a little something – and make that something belong to him.
Kurt opens his eyes in degrees, not wanting to let on that he's awake, especially when he feels the even puff of Sebastian's breathing against his forehead. He inches up carefully, trying not to shake the buckboard, moving four inches over the space of ten minutes, if not more. He's almost at a point where he can brush a light kiss against Sebastian's cheek, when suddenly the man speaks.
"If you're going to steal kisses," Sebastian says, "can you do it while my eyes are open? I have enough ghosts following me. If you do it on the sly, I'll think I'm going crazy." Sebastian laughs, and for the first time that day he sounds truly exhausted. "Not that I'm not, but…" Sebastian shakes his head with that tired laugh in his throat and eyes squeezed shut. His laughter dies down and Kurt stares at him with wider blue eyes and redder cheeks. Sebastian opens his eyes and looks at the boy lying in front of him, raising a brow, but whether it's a question or a challenge, Kurt doesn't know. The expression on Sebastian's face – well, it's difficult for Kurt to tell. Kurt has spent a great deal of time around men and women who rarely say what they mean, but from what he knows of Sebastian, he's a straightforward, honorable man. He's not trying to trick Kurt. He's giving him a choice.
Kurt leans in, assessing every inch of the man's expression, watching Sebastian watch him as he moves forward to kiss his cheek. But somewhere along the way, Kurt gets lost in the eyes staring at him, or he simply miscalculates, and he presses his lips gently against Sebastian's mouth.
The kiss is quick, unexpected, and Sebastian gasps, which makes Kurt jerk backward.
"I'm…I'm sorry," Kurt stammers. "I meant to…"
"It's fine," Sebastian says. "Let's…let's get some sleep." And without any further comment on the subject, Sebastian returns the kiss – a similar gentle press of lips on lips, as if it was the most casually acceptable thing in the world - then closes his eyes and falls off to sleep.
For Sebastian, sleep seems to come like the flicking of a switch, but for the pounding of his heart inside his ears, sleep takes longer to come to Kurt.