Sebastian sat quietly lost in thought the whole ride back to the Fed-Ex lot. Eventually and thankfully, his hard-on died as Louis jabbered on nervously. Several times he interrupted Sebastian's thoughts with a desperate, "Oh, please man! Tell me you're not going to quit on me! I'm tired of this route." To which Sebastian would sarcastically reassure him that he might as well come back, seeing as he had nothing better to do.

After the third time, Louis said congenially, "Hey, don't let that uptight asshole get you down."

Sebastian flexed his hands where they rested in his lap, resisting a sudden urge to break every one of Louis's teeth.

The moment Louis returned to his other random thoughts, Sebastian drifted off into his own world, one composed entirely of Kurt's eyes, his lips, and what must be hiding beneath that robe. Sebastian imagined worrying the knot of the sash with his fingertips until the it unraveled and the robe slipped open. What did he wear underneath? In Sebastian's daydream Kurt wore absolutely nothing, of course, but a smile and heavy lids shading his come hither eyes. Sebastian had noticed the tell tale collar of a familiar London inspired button down shirt.

Burberry. Sebastian was sure of it.

His Kurt had impeccable taste.

Sebastian smiled in spite of himself before he even realized he had just referred to the man as his Kurt.

What was going on? What was he doing?

Sebastian shook his head hard. He must be going mad. Maybe he should quit, and get these ridiculous fucking ideas out of his head.

At least, if he didn't work for Fed-Ex anymore, he could seduce Kurt somehow, fuck him, dump him, and get on with his life.

Sebastian chuckled darkly to himself.

'Fuck him where?' he thought. 'My shit hole apartment? Not a man with class like Kurt.'

It surprised Sebastian suddenly that he actually cared what Kurt would think about him if he saw where Sebastian lived.

Sebastian sighed. How could someone he talked to for all of twenty minutes derail him so badly?

He needed to get Kurt out of his system.

What he really needed was to get laid.

At some point Louis must have realized that Sebastian wasn't really listening to him and stopped talking altogether. They finished the last leg of their trip in silence. They pulled into the lot a little before four. Sebastian had never been happier to see the dreary white building with it's obnoxiously large purple lettering along the side.

In the quiet of his own thoughts he had made a plan. First, he would take a long, hot shower, and probably masturbate for an hour. Letting that erection die on its own had left some serious throbbing in its wake. It was a matter that would need to be dealt with post haste. Then he would dress in one of the few decent designer outfits he had managed to smuggle out of his father's house, hit the first gay bar he could find within walking distance of his apartment, and ride the first guy who showed even a tiny inkling of interest in him, provided he had a nice ass and his face wouldn't necessarily break glass.

If he really felt like torturing himself, he might try and find a man who looked a little like Kurt. This way he could prove this was just some silly infatuation. Maybe he had suddenly developed a taste for pale, blue eyed ice queens in general. He would have to find another one, though, just to be sure.

Part one of Sebastian's master plan went bust when he hopped into the shower and discovered he had no hot water. He washed as quickly as he could, and then tried to masturbate with no luck. Not being able to keep an erection under the icy spray, he abandoned all thoughts of a massive, self-induced "O" in favor of not freezing to death.

He lived in a studio apartment which basically meant everything fit in one room. His bedroom also acted as his living room and dining room, all with a view of the kitchen not three steps away. His pitifully small closet housed only his Fed-Ex uniform, his shoes, and his pants, so his dress shirts hung off of every corner in the apartment that he could spare. He had even embedded some of the hangers in the walls like picture frames.

He chose a salmon colored Abercrombie polo and a pair of distressed jeans, hoping against hope that the rolled down cuffs of the light blue denim would cover the scuffs on his rapidly aging boat shoes. The last thing he tried to do was manage his coif, which worked reasonably well considering he had to settle for a $0.99 bottle of White Rain hairspray in place of his regular Redken product.

He looked at himself in the only reflective surface he had - an old toaster that came with the place. Deciding that he was relatively pleased with his appearance, he walked out the door and went on the prowl.

The first bar he could find was not as hot as he had imagined, but considering it was a Monday night he could see why. After three hours of nursing a rum and coke, he finally found and started chatting up the only even remotely attractive guy he could see. Adam was tall and blond, with blue eyes and a pale complexion. Sebastian had to admit that in the dim light of the bar, if he squinted his eyes a certain way and tilted his head to the left, then took a drink of his rum and coke really fast, the man looked vaguely like Kurt. But this man's blond hair was dry, like straw, where Kurt's was a warm chestnut color and looked soft to the touch. Adam's blue eyes were flat and expressionless compared to Kurt's, which shimmered like sunlight as it danced across new fallen snow. Looking at Adam's skin while he talked, Sebastian noticed it was ruddy and sun damaged, where Kurt's skin was flawless and smooth. like fine China, fired and glazed to perfection.

Then, of course, there was Adam's British accent.

Yup, not like Kurt at all really. Sebastian sighed. He had a nice ass, and he was breathing, which was basically at this point Sebastian's only real criteria. So, as soon as he could find a pause in the conversation, Sebastian cut in.

"Look, blondie," Sebastian said, rolling his eyes and setting his empty glass on the table, "are we going to take this party to the bathroom or what?"

The man looked confused and seriously affronted.

"W-what was that?" Adam said with a nervous smile, hoping he had heard the man wrong.

Sebastian leaned in close, trying to get his intent across through the gaze of his own hooded green eyes.

"You're a reasonably hot guy," Sebastian purred, trying for seductive but coming off as seedy instead, "and I'm looking for a good time with no strings attached. So why don't you and I get down and dirty somewhere dark in this establishment. You even get to pick where."

"Um..." Adam stammered, blinking and shaking his head, leaning back on his bar stool to put space between them. "I am not sure what you're implying, sir, but I'm pretty sure my answer will have to be no."

Adam stood quickly and walked away. Sebastian didn't even watch his ass as he left.

Sebastian was bitter. He had just spent over an hour listening (or mostly half listening) to Adam ramble on about taking his cat to the vet, and he couldn't even seal the deal. He spent way too much time comparing him to Kurt, he realized, and not enough time getting in his pants.

That was it. The next man he saw was giving him a blow job for sure, regardless of whether he looked like Kurt or not.

Sebastian scanned the room. Things had started to pick up a bit after ten, and Sebastian had to try hard to peer through the heads of people standing at the bar, sitting at tables, or bouncing around on the dance floor in order to try and spot anyone. As soon as his eyes swept the mob of people dancing, he stumbled headlong into the exact thing he had been searching for.

A man, tall and lithe, with the body of a dancer, was absolutely owning a corner of the dance floor. Over time, people were moving away to give him room to move. He swayed with abandon, smiled up into the swirling lights around him, and ground down erotically on the bodies of two darker skinned men, both with dark, thick, curly hair and eyes only for their gorgeous companion.

'Now that's what I'm talking about,' Sebastian thought as he watched the beautiful, pale creature, wrapped in Alexander McQueen, moving his body seductively, those two lucky men putting their hands on him anywhere they could touch.

Sebastian stood from his bar stool, and made his way through the other patrons to get to this amazingly sensual man. Sebastian was drawn to those gyrating hips, those long legs, that subtly defined torso and the shirt that clung to it like sin.

The closer Sebastian got to the man, the more Sebastian realized that he looked so much like Kurt it was uncanny.

He was only mere feet from him when Sebastian realized the man was Kurt.

Sebastian's jaw went slack. He was taken back by what he saw, the image of this uptight, straight laced, shut-in throwing himself around with these two men almost pornographically. Kurt turned, catching Sebastian's emerald eyes locked on his body and stopped dancing.

"Great," Kurt smirked, suddenly annoyed, pushing the two still dancing men away from him. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Kurt stormed off the dance floor in the direction of the bar. Sebastian felt compelled to follow him.

"Well," Sebastian snarked, "this is a bar. A public place. As I am a member of the general public I felt it was alright to come here. Little did I know I should have checked with you first."

Kurt raised a hand to the bartender who immediately brought him a drink without having to say a word.

'He must come here a lot,' Sebastian thought, and smiled. 'And he orders Shirley Temples? With extra cherries?'

Sebastian was trying hard to put together a picture of this man and failing spectacularly.

Kurt glared at him.

"If I had known that getting your permission was required, I would have done that at work today and bypassed this unpleasantness."

"You think you're pretty smart, don't you?" Kurt grinned in a sardonic manner that told Sebastian that Kurt definitely did not think that he was smart. Or cute for that matter.

Which was fine with Sebastian. Being cute wasn't necessary for what Sebastian had in mind.

Neither was eye contact, for that matter.

Though doing anything with this man and not looking right into his eyes would most definitely be a sin.

"Smart enough," Sebastian said. "Definitely smart enough to know that those men you're dancing with have something a little more sinister on their minds then dancing."

Sebastian became suddenly serious...trying to impart a warning. They both looked back to the dance floor where the two men huddled, whispering low and close to each other, shooting Sebastian and Kurt uneasy looks.

"Trust me," Kurt said icily, "I've been doing this an awful long time and never before have I needed my Fed-Ex delivery guy to run to my rescue."

Kurt laughed, his voice a gentle lilt, like the ringing of a bell, a sound that should have annoyed Sebastian seeing as he was the one being laughed at, but instead warmed him from head to toe. That sound caught in his head, rattled around, playing with his thoughts - a thought of them naked in bed while Sebastian pinned Kurt to the sheets and tickled him mercilessly. Another thought of them sitting at a table in the sun, sipping tea while Sebastian told Kurt a story from his days in high school, Kurt throwing his head back and laughing that enchantingly high laugh. Or Kurt, eyes filled with tears, while Sebastian tried to comfort him, kneeling between his legs and looking up into those impossibly blue eyes. Sebastian would say something pithy, out of character, and Kurt would laugh.

As all those images dissolved, much like Kurt's sarcastic laugh, he noticed Kurt's eyes on him in the dark light of the bar, one eyebrow raised, and for a moment Sebastian thought he saw a sincere look of concern. As Sebastian blinked, the look on Kurt's face shifted back into place, his lips a tight line as he appraised Sebastian's face.

"Uh, you seem to do that alot," Kurt said, sipping his drink.

"What is that?" Sebastian asked, even though he knew what Kurt was referring to.

"Zoning out like that. You might want to see a doctor."

Kurt put his drink down, and took out a five dollar bill from his pocket.

"Don't worry," Sebastian said, reaching for his own wallet. "I've got it."

Kurt's head snapped to Sebastian's face, an unreadable expression blossoming there. Kurt's eyes shifted again, much more slowly this time so that Sebastian could see the change, the aurora of colors that transformed those stormy gray eyes to a much softer but still rigid sapphire blue. A rosy flush colored Kurt's pale cheeks. Kurt's pink lips pursed slightly as he sucked in a sharp breath.

Sebastian imagined this must be what Kurt looked like when he's just been kissed.

It was extraordinary.

It didn't last long.

Kurt scoffed, looking Sebastian over.

"Yeah," he said, his icy tone returning full force. One blink of his delicate eyelids and the tumultuous storm returned. "Like I need you paying for my drinks, when it's more than obvious that Mr. Trying-to-be-Fashion-Forward gets his clothes from second hand stores." Kurt chuckled once. "Maybe I should be paying for your drink."

Sebastian bit his lip. He wanted to slap this guy.

He wanted to fuck this guy.

More than anything, he wanted to know this guy.

What made him tick. Why he was so angry.

Where he liked to be kissed.

Sebastian longed to come out with something witty, biting, something with an edge that would be equal parts infuriating and equal parts irresistable.

What he came out with was, "What's wrong with the way I dress?"

Kurt laughed again as he turned to the bartender and waved away his change with a flirty smile.

"The question is what isn't wrong with it."

Kurt turned an expert eye on Sebastian, enjoying the opportunity Sebastian had just given him to tear apart his fashion sense way too much. Kurt sat back on his hips, deciding to take his time with this endeavor.

"Well," Kurt drawled, "your shirt is so last season. In fact, it was retro when it came out, which in itself, was a horrendous tragedy." Kurt's eyes traveled down Sebastian's body, his breath catching a little in his throat as he appraised the man's pants. "That also explains the jeans." Kurt's eyes swept over the distressed pattern on the material that clung to Sebastian's thighs. His long, lingering look intrigued Sebastian. Sebastian felt himself drifting closer to the man. He couldn't help it. Kurt's unabashed stare burned Sebastian. It seemed way too intimate for just an evaluation of his clothes.

Sebastian saw Kurt's lip twist into a devilish grin.

"And I can't for the life of me understand why you don't seem to like clothes that fit properly," Kurt said, staring openly at Sebastian's crotch. "Or do you just think the whole world should know how incredible your cock looks when it's hard?"

Sebastian might have shown a little modesty, might have tugged down the hem of his polo to cover the bulge...if Kurt hadn't said it looked incredible...and if it hadn't sounded like a compliment this time.

It seemed that Kurt had forgotten he was supposed to be cutting Sebastian apart and tossing him aside as he stepped closer and peered up thoughtfully into his face. Kurt shook his head.

"No," he said, almost sincerely, "with your coloring, you should stay away from light colors. They wash you out. You should pick jewel tones...to bring out your eyes..."

Kurt didn't take a step to move away and Sebastian held his breath. Sapphire eyes stared longingly into emerald, and Sebastian realized that if he hadn't been holding his breath, he and Kurt would be breathing the same air, taking the same breath.

If he leaned in just slightly and pressed his lips against Kurt's, just barely brushing his skin, would he feel fireworks? How would he taste?

Sebastian's lips tingled, itching to find out.

He must have moved because Kurt's snark snapped back into place, and he jerked backward as if burned.

"And don't get me started on your ridiculous..."

Kurt looked down dramatically, preparing to insult Sebastian's shoes, but when he saw the dark navy blue boat shoes, he stopped. His face dropped, and from where Sebastian sat, it looked as though Kurt started trembling.

"Uh," Kurt said, his bottom lip quivering. "I've got to go, I..."

Kurt looked around frantically, as if searching for a way out. His eyes, impossibly wide, looked almost panicked.

Sebastian would have normally tried to find something biting to say about this man's apparent weakness. Defeated by boat shoes...classic.

But watching Kurt, his eyes obviously seeing something that wasn't there, Sebastian's heart melted.

"Kurt?"

Sebastian lowered his, trying a hand at being comforting.

Kurt didn't hear him.

Kurt was locked in a nightmare that he couldn't escape.

Sebastian made a command decision. He grabbed Kurt's hand. With another hand to the small of Kurt's back, he led him quickly to the door. They passed by the two dark men on the way out. They tried to block his path.

"Hey," the first one barked in a strange, almost Mediterranean accent. "He's ours!"

"Fuck off, hobbits!" Sebastian yelled as he swept passed the two with barely a glance and made his way to the exit.

They were out the door and into the cool night air in a matter of minutes. Kurt sucked in a breath, as if he was coming up from a fall in deep water. Kurt's hands shook violently. Sebastian took both of Kurt's hands in his, trying to still their shaking.

God, was his skin soft.

Sebastian swallowed hard.

He couldn't help but wonder if it was that soft everywhere.

Kurt continued to look around, but his movements slowed now, became more controlled, his eyes less manic.

Kurt's breathing returned to normal, his eyes focused.

He noticed his hands locked in Sebastian's.

For a moment he looked at their hands linked together, mouth dropped a bit in awe.

Then the bitch came back, and Kurt ripped his hands from Sebastian's grasp.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Kurt screamed.

"I...I'm helping you, you prick!" Sebastian retorted, tired of the emotional whiplash.

"Do you know what would 'help me'?" Kurt asked, making exaggerated air quotes with his fingers. "If you would go away and leave me the fuck alone!"

Kurt pushed passed Sebastian, heading back in the bar. Sebastian grabbed Kurt's arm.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to my dates," Kurt said with an all too evil grin as he made a point to emphasize the 's'.

Kurt pulled on his arm, but Sebastian held him tight. He knew he might be hurting the man, but Sebastian couldn't let go. There was a scared man hiding somewhere inside this perfectly poised and put together shell, and Sebastian didn't want to abandon him.

Kurt stopped pulling, glaring up at Sebastian, looking for words he could hurl at him that would hurt.

"Would you please take your hands off my McQueen," Kurt said evenly. "It's worth more than ten of you."

That did it.

Sebastian released his grip with stunning speed.

"Fine." Sebastian clenched his teeth, grinding the words out with a healthy dose of venom.

Kurt looked almost triumphant as Sebastian scowled.

"Whatever," Sebastian barked. "Do what you want, princess. Get fucked and sucked by both those dildos. If you're lucky and they don't rape and murder you, that is."

Kurt, head held high, humorless grin plastered on, marched back into the bar.

Sebastian thought he had him, and not in the 'drag you out back to the alley and suck me off' way. He thought he had actually broken through his armor.

For just a moment, Sebastian had been Kurt's white knight.

Sebastian tried several times to leave, but he couldn't get his feet to move. The farthest he managed to get was about half a block, looking over his shoulder every five seconds to see if he had missed Kurt leave. In the end, he rushed back and took up sentry on the cold curb, his long legs bent uncomfortably at an awkward angle.

He just wanted to make sure Kurt would be okay.

After a while, Sebastian felt like a fool. He had been sitting on the sidewalk for about four hours waiting for the man, when in reality those two curly haired fucks could have been double-teaming Kurt in the bathroom this whole time.

Why did Sebastian even care? Kurt had made it more than clear that he wasn't only uninterested, but physically disgusted by the thought of Sebastian.

Sebastian caved and headed home. The farther he got from the bar, the more he figured his resolve would strengthen, and any thought of getting into Kurt's pants would ebb away. But one thought kept cropping up, imbedding itself into Sebastian's skull, refusing to leave him alone.

He could leave Kurt.

He could never think of him again.

But how many angels do you meet in one lifetime?

Kurt had sat at a table, close to the door, watching with interest as Sebastian sat vigil on the sidewalk. Four hours he stayed, shivering in the cold, waiting. For what? Kurt wondered.

More importantly, why? Why was this man sitting outside waiting for him?

Kurt knew it was Monday night, almost Tuesday morning, and Sebastian would need to get up to go to work soon, so why would he stay? Several times, Kurt had actually thought of cutting the poor guy a break, going outside and telling Sebastian that the sex would be awful and that he shouldn't waste his time, but he couldn't. He just couldn't.

Kurt knew that if he went back outside and looked into those beckoning green eyes, so full of sass and fire, he would ask Sebastian to come home with him.

Sebastian rode with Louis in silence the next day, looking out the window as the dusk turned to dawn, and the sky lightened to pale hues of purple and green, and then blue.

Blue like the sea.

Blue like the deep lapis earrings his mom used to love so much.

Blue like spring irises.

But no where near as amazing as Kurt's eyes.

Sebastian sighed.

Talk about beating a dead horse.

Kurt was a slut, Sebastian concluded, who didn't mind fucking anyone as long as it wasn't Sebastian.

Sebastian would just move on.

Sebastian would not let Kurt affect him. He grabbed the express envelopes and the digital pad and breezed towards the door.

'Just doing my job,' Sebastian affirmed to himself. 'Not a stalker or a creeper. I'm supposed to be here...at 2 p.m...everyday for the rest of my life...maybe longer...'

Sebastian almost knocked, but stopped himself, fist hovering barely an inch from the door. He flexed his stiff fingers in the air before ringing the doorbell.

"Who is it?" a timid voice answered through the door.

Sebastian sighed.

'So he brought those fucks home,' he thought. 'Nice. Well, if short and greasy's his type...'

"Fed-Ex," Sebastian announced, "with a package for Kurt Hummel."

"Can you leave it at the door?" the voice asked quietly.

Sebastian sighed.

'Come on, cockslut,' Sebastian wailed internally. 'I just want to go home!'

"Unfortunately, I can't," Sebastian said. "They have to be signed for personally."

Silence.

Sebastian had an already short fuse, and he was well passed the end of it.

"Look, dude. Cut me some slack here. I'm tired. Can you just roll His Royal Highness Kurt Hummel out of bed and get him to sign the little pad here?"

Sebastian shook the digital pad obnoxiously in front of the peep hole.

The voice on the other side of the door sighed. He heard the sound of a lock turn, and the door creaked slowly open.

There stood Kurt, his hair perfectly coiffed, wearing a deep purple dressing gown this time, but his eyes looked tired, lonely.

He reached wordlessly for the pad, and Sebastian handed it over with a smirk.

'Must be hung over,' he thought triumphantly. 'Probably started doing body shots the minute I left.'

"I didn't go home with those guys, you know," Kurt said, as if reading Sebastian's thoughts. "We...we didn't do anything."

Kurt handed the machine back and reached out for his packages.

Sebastian was stunned.

"Wh-" Sebastian stuttered, but another tired sigh stopped him.

"I just don't want you thinking I actually did anything with those guys. You were right, you know. I knew it, too." Kurt nodded, not meeting Sebastian's gaze.

Kurt looked almost ashamed.

Sebastian's smirk softened. He wanted to take Kurt in his arms and hug him.

The next words out of his mouth were meant to be reassuring.

They didn't come out that way.

"Why do you care what I think?" Sebastian asked.

'Okay, wow,' Sebastian thought, mortified. 'That sounded kind of bitchy.'

Kurt's head snapped up, staring Sebastian down with a glare that lowered the temperature in the air a good forty degrees.

"You're right," he said smugly, his voice thick. "I don't."

Without another word, Kurt slammed the door in Sebastian's face.

Sebastian was sensing a pattern.

He was also beginning to think that he wasn't really good with people.

It had never dawned on him before now to care.

"Fuck me," Sebastian cursed at the closed door. "Brilliant, Seb. Maybe next time you could just pee on him for good measure and completely ruin any chance you might have in the future."

Again, Sebastian was having a problem leaving.

He stared at his black $10 Target clearance shoes, and wanted to moan.

He hated himself right now.

"I'm sorry, Kurt," he whispered at the empty space occupying the threshold, imagining the beautiful man looking at him with adoring, forgiving eyes. "I'm so sorry for everything."

Sebastian turned and hurried down the walk, returning to Louis, the truck, and his messed up life.

Behind the door, Kurt listened to Sebastian's foot steps as he left him. Kurt slid down the door to the floor, dropped his head in his hands, and cried.