Sebastian Smythe looked absolutely ridiculous.
And that's saying a lot since Kurt had experienced the man at a time when he decided that wearing that Steve from Blues Clues shirt and still gelling his hair in that stupid CW way when it was reaching mullet-status were good ideas.
First of all, he was wearing khakis. They didn't even look that bad on him necessarily (though it certainly takes of a very specific type of man to pull them off and he wasn't sure Sebastian was) but they were giving him all kinds of war flashbacks to the Lima Bean and biscotti barrels and very close cases with potential third degree burns.
The almost-offensive pants were paired with a t-shirt. Not even an undershirt. A regular, faded t-shirt that Sebastian probably wore to bed. If he squinted he could see the faint outlines of the original Star Wars crew. A carefully knitted scarf hung loosely around his neck and hung past his hips. His shoes only added to the absurdity as they were essentially street style clown shoes, bright red and alarmingly shiny.
On top, where a normally quite nicely styled head of hair sat was essential a mop, flopping down onto his forehead, slightly damp. His glasses had fogged up from the change in weather from the cold outside to the warmth of his apartment. Speaking of cold, Kurt noticed now that his bare arms and face were a rosy color, no doubt from being exposed to harsh winds they had been having recently.
Kurt quickly ushered him inside, trying too hard not to stare as Sebastian set down the lumpy, overstuffed tote bag that had been on his shoulder down onto the coffee table and rubbed his arms to get some warmth back in them. He wanted to say something, but had no idea where to begin. Wasn't even sure if he had it in him to spew out all of the jokes that sprung to his brain.
"There are so many deliberate choices here and I am very confused." He settled on, moving to sit on the couch, throwing the blanket that he had been wrapped in before he had answered the door at him. Sebastian gave him a grateful nod and wrapped it around his shoulders, moving to sit next to him. They didn't say anything for a few moments, just taking everything in. Taking stock.
That was something Kurt's therapist had taught him how to do. To cope with not wanting to live in the past, he worried about the future. Not that it wasn't a normal reaction in his situation, but he was so permanently planted in the future and the stress of it all that he was hardly in the present anymore. To put himself back his therapist suggested checking in with himself every hour or whenever he remembered to. Take stock of his feelings, figure out what he needed to do now to take care of himself.
Right now he felt… tired. His entire body felt heavy and it ached. The exercise earlier certainly wasn't helping with the soreness and tension in his muscles, but this was a different type of pain. Dull and ever-present. He also felt confused, like he had said. Not just with Sebastian's fashion choices, though that was something that had to be addressed sometime during this visit, but with Sebastian's presence in general.
It seemed like, and this may be a bit narcissistic on his part but it felt like Sebastian had dropped everything to come and see him. He could have easily stayed on the phone, let Kurt talk it out but he had come over. To be with him in person. It looked like he had come from somewhere, too. Or had been in the middle of something. There was no way Sebastian purposely wore all of that together, made the conscious decision to wear a grungy t-shirt and khakis with a belt. Especially to Kurt Hummel's house, someone who had been regarded as a member of the fashion police since high school.
Sebastian leaned over and reached into the tote bag, presenting a take-out container of some kind to Kurt. He raised an eyebrow at him and opened it to see the most delicious looking piece of cheesecake he had ever seen in his life and any and all queries about Sebastian's state of dress went out the window.
Sebastian laughed when Kurt squealed with joy and ran off to get a fork from the kitchen. He sat back down and offered Sebastian a fork, who simply shook his head and waved it off. Kurt looked back at the slice and everything about it was perfect. The sides were still smooth, as if it had just been cut by the warmest, sharpest knife. The fact that it hadn't gotten at least a little smushed on the transport over here amazed him more than it probably should have.
On top was an artistic drizzling of caramel and chocolate sauce, criss crossing and weaving together and if Kurt hadn't accidentally skipped lunch he wouldn't have wanted to touch it. It was just too beautiful to eat.
"You gonna keep eye-fucking it or are you gonna eat it?" Sebastian asked. Kurt honest-to-god blushed at that.
"You sure you don't want a bite?" Kurt asked, purely to be polite at this point. He sort of really didn't want Sebastian to have any. Sebastian must of sensed that because he chuckled, shucking off the blanket and unwrapping the scarf.
"Nah. I got it for you. Dig in." Sebastian urged and Kurt did just that. Back in high school, to get Blaine going, he used to dramatically moan when he had a bite of something good, When Harry Met Sally style. Sometimes it'd be a little too over-the-top and it'd lead to giggles, but most of the time it made Blaine's eyes darken and he'd take him back to one of their bedrooms and make it his mission to hear that sound again.
But this time Kurt wasn't overplaying it. He hadn't planned it but the cheesecake was just so good, so decadent that he couldn't help the noise that escaped him.
"Shit. Should I leave you two alone?" Sebastian joked and Kurt rolled his eyes, kicking Sebastian's shin gently.
"Where'd you get this?" Kurt asked, not noticing a flash of something go across the other's face, too preoccupied with his heavenly pastry.
"Mm, I dunno. I don't remember the name. I just popped in on the way over." Sebastian replied. Kurt made a muffled groaning sound, flashing Sebastian sad puppy eyes as he swallowed his mouthful of fluffy cheesecake goodness.
"Well, find out for me because this is officially my favorite cheesecake I've ever had. Which is a feat in itself because nobody does cheesecake quite like New York," Kurt stabbed at the dessert, hacking away at it a little more slowly now to cherish it while it lasted. "If you find it check and see if they deliver because if I eat as much of this as I want to, I'm not gonna be able to leave the house without a crane."
Sebastian wasn't going on a Google hunt like Kurt expected, instead was just looking at him with an amused look on his face. Once Kurt looked up from the takeout container to meet his eyes, Sebastian looked away, rolling his eyes before reaching back over to pull more things out of the tote bag. As he pulled item after item out of the bag, Kurt was reminded of a certain carpet bag…
"Are you sure you're not secretly Mary Poppins? That bag does seem to be never ending…" Sebastian chuckled and pulled the final item out, a DVD of said movie. "Wow, great timing. Well played, Mr. Smythe."
"Would you say it was… practically perfect in every way?" Sebastian wiggled his eyebrows and Kurt groaned, throwing one of his new throw pillows at his face.
"So, what is all of this?" The items seemed to be as disorganized as Sebastian's wardrobe. He wondered if this was how Sebastian normally was when not under the guise a uniform provided him: a mess.
"Isn't it obvious? It's an emergency 'I Don't Know How To Help Someone Going Through A Divorce So I Just Threw Together Some Generic Feel-Good Shit And Put It In A Bag' kit."
Kurt took a closer look at the items and now that he was really paying attention, he could see the thought process Sebastian had. It was a mixture of items you'd get for a sick person and someone going through a breakup. Some of it overlapped and he couldn't tell which part of it was intended for what ailment Sebastian thought Kurt might have like the tissues, movies and ice cream.
"What are you, a witch doctor?" Kurt asked, reaching out to grab one of the tiny glass viles sitting on the coffee table. He turned it over in his hand and read the label: cedarwood.
"Worse. A hippie," Kurt gasped dramatically and Sebastian scooted closer to him. "That one's good for menstrual cramps. I actually brought one, rose, that reduces the symptoms of menopause too. Thought you might need it." Sebastian teased. Kurt just scoffed.
"Don't tell me you're one of those people who actually believes these essential oil things work."
"I swear by them."
"Jesus. I bet you're subscribed to an Oil of the Month club, too. Where you get a free sample in the mail every month," Kurt joked but after glancing over to look at Sebastian's face, he could see that he had hit home. "Oh my god," Laughter bubbled in his chest. "You're a nerd!"
"I can leave, you know! I don't have to stay here!" Sebastian said, not a bit of venom in his voice as he chuckled along with him.
"I don't know if I can even look at you the same way again! This is not the Sebastian Smythe I know. You might as well be a stranger! I could… I could report you for trespassing!"
"Luckily, I came prepared for this scenario. If you don't take those seriously, maybe you'll respond better to my good friend Mary Jane here." He pulled a pre-rolled joint out of his pocket, rolling it between his index and middle fingers.
Kurt remembered the days when he used to go to NYADA parties and even the occasional Vogue party. He was surprised to see, especially as he got older, that people were smoking weed more than they were drinking at these events. The mainstream media had led him to believe that house parties in college were all keg stands and red solo cups.
In high school it seemed to be the cool thing to have a fake ID and buy beers for everybody. Hell, even the one party he went to in high school involved all of his Glee friends getting absolutely hammered from the stuff they scrounged from Rachel's dad's liquor cabinet. No marijuana involved. Except for that one time they sold pot brownies in the school's cafeteria to pay for a handicap bus for one show choir contest or another, but that wasn't as intentional as the way the twenty-somethings in crowded apartments in Queens blew smoke rings out of the windows at those parties, endlessly droning on about their groundbreaking performance art pieces or crudely named improv troupes.
Damn art schools.
Kurt felt like he was looking at a historic artifact, those days were so far away.
"I've never smoked before." Kurt admitted. A true rarity among people his age, he realized. He still saw people in their thirties on the street with vape pens.
"Mm, maybe another time, then. When you're in a better mindset," Sebastian said, carefully slipping the joint back into his pocket and grabbing the rest of the viles left on the table. "But we're doing these."
Sebastian managed to coax him into it. He told Kurt to smell and choose between peppermint and eucalyptus while he popped in Mary Poppins for them to hate-watch then returned, moving so that he was sitting where Kurt could settle between his legs and lay out across the couch, his head settled in Sebastian's lap.
Sebastian put a drop of eucalyptus onto each of Kurt's temples and lavender onto his own wrists. As he did so, Kurt tilted his head up to look up at his upside down face.
"You know what's funny? You claim to hate working around smells and perfume all day, but then you go home and surround yourself with more smells. What's up with that?"
"You sound like my therapist. Now, shhh. Relax." He gently pushed Kurt's head back down and as the opening notes played and the streets of London came into view, Sebastian started massaging Kurt's temples.
At first he had tensed up, the touch becoming too much again like last night with Jesse and Rachel but it didn't take long for Kurt to succumb to Sebastian's magic fingers and let the scent of the eucalyptus (to release tension and cure headaches) and lavender (to relieve stress and help him relax more fully) wash over him.
Sometimes, when Sebastian would move to hover his wrists over Kurt's nose, Kurt would make a joke about how it felt like he was about to get chloroformed or make a half-hearted jab at Dick Van Dyke's bad British accent but other than that they stayed relatively quiet. It wasn't even twenty minutes into the movie when Kurt felt himself drifting off, the sound of Julie Andrews singing lulling him to sleep, his nose filled with the sweet scent of lavender.