A/N: Okay, so apparently I lied. This is going to be a five part story, not a four part story, but you guys don't mind, right? (Please say you don't mind…) Anyway, so here's my continuation in what I call my 'What…? series' This comes after 'What Should I Say?' This one is heavily influenced by the recent Glee episode '5X16 Tested' so warning for spoilers. Kurt and Sebastian spend more time together, and Kurt's starting to get a bit confused by his feelings, especially considering recent emotional turns of events with regard to Blaine. Warnings for talk of Klaine and Blaine, but I make up for it with what I think is a really cool bo fighting scene at the end.
"So, what do you study that gives you all this free time to wander the city during the day?" Kurt asks, pulling apart his cronut and handing Sebastian half. Kurt originally felt guilty indulging in the one treat that had started Blaine on his landslide to his new found obsession with food, but he figures what Blaine doesn't know about his occasional food infidelities won't hurt him. Besides, better to snack behind Blaine's back then to rub it in his face.
Sebastian takes a bite of the still warm pastry and moans softly, chewing thoroughly before he answers.
This has become their ritual – coffee and cronuts on the way to NYADA. When they started walking together in the mornings they could only meet two days a week. Blaine struggled and struggled with his weight problem, with feelings of inadequacy and failure; but most of all with the idea of the beautiful, tortured, and slightly broken boy he had fallen head over heels for blossoming into a stronger, sexier, fiercely independent man. One evening he broke down into tears and told Kurt that he couldn't stand himself; couldn't cope with the person he had turned into, living in constant fear that one day Kurt would wake up and realize he didn't love him anymore.
Kurt felt the weight of that confession like a rock in his stomach. He reassured Blaine that he would always love him, but his words of acceptance and affection didn't seem to work the magic he had hoped. So from that moment on Kurt devoted himself to helping his fiancé lose weight which meant early morning jogs three days a week, but sometimes the dark alleys they would cut through brought back difficult memories for Kurt, and he signed them up for memberships to a local gym instead.
Things went fine in the beginning. Better than fine. Even though Blaine is usually the first one up to make Kurt breakfast, Kurt is really the consummate morning person in the relationship, especially when it comes to waking up before five in the morning. Kurt would roll Blaine out of bed, slap him into his tank top and sweats, and drag him down to Crunch Fitness for morning cardio.
Kurt took boxing lessons with Blaine, letting Blaine help him with his punches and his stance. In turn, Blaine joined Kurt for a spin class. They would pretend they were racing through Central Park, and tried to slap each other surreptitiously when the instructor wasn't watching, which she always was, and she scowled at them with a tiny smile on her lips. One day out of the week they dedicated to the machines and weights - walking side-by-side on the treadmills, spotting each other at the bench.
Their mornings together at the gym were reminiscent of being teenaged lovebirds back at McKinley (or Dalton) again. There was no stress, no insecurities (believe it or not). It was fun and carefree. Kurt would look at Blaine as he attacked the punching bag, focused, determined, fitter and trimmer than he had ever seen him and think, "There he is. That's the Blaine I fell in love with."
Kurt felt happy. He had finally found the balance he longed for so much. He had the man of his dreams back from the dark void of depression, had made an amazing new friend to boot, and the problems he and Blaine did have were quickly on the mend because they were starting anew – open and honest, with lots of genuine conversation and intimate moments together.
That is until they started going to the gym a few afternoons after school.
The gym at four in the afternoon when it's nearly jam-packed is a different universe compared to the gym at five in the morning when it's empty and only a handful of tired, dedicated people show up to run on the treadmill and generally ignore everyone else around them.
Their membership gave them access to a personal trainer, and Kurt decided to take advantage of it, needing some guidance since he wanted to keep his leaner physique and not suddenly bulk up the way he feared he might be. Guns were fine, but he wanted to keep his armory low-key.
Seth, his trainer, was a sweet, intelligent, flattering man, who was passionate about his job and liked to flirt; but even without a ring on his finger Seth wasn't really Kurt's type. Kurt didn't pay much attention to his flirting. He was polite and attentive and made it clear during their first session together that he had a fiancé and Seth got the hint. From then on out they had a professional trainer/trainee relationship. Seth eventually handed Kurt over to George, a trainer who worked with a few members from the New York City Ballet Company, and Kurt found out they had a lot in common.
It was nice talking to people with similar interests outside of school and the loft. He was beginning to feel like a shut-in with regard to his social circles, like he was locked into two sects and would never be able to function in the real world. He never thought that making new friends would be a problem, especially not now that he and Blaine had gone through so many stages of personal growth.
But Blaine became sullen and moody and competitive all over again. It's not that Blaine didn't get his own fair share of attention, but the harem of admirers that Kurt had collected Blaine found hard to stomach. They fought more and more, and Blaine protested by being literally immoveable when the alarm went off at four until the morning workouts stopped altogether and the cronuts came back. In the end Kurt and Blaine decided that it would be better if they went to the gym separately – Kurt by himself when he found the time, and Blaine with Sam in tow to keep him on track.
In the meantime, Kurt had to go back to the start; searching for the balance, peace, and happiness he had lost.
He started walking with Sebastian more and more, and when he did he realized how much he had missed it.
"I'm actually double-majoring in corporate finance and forensic accounting," Sebastian replies when he swallows his bite. "Some of my classes are independent study and the rest of them are in the afternoon."
Kurt's fingers stop where they dangle a piece of pastry in front of his lips.
"Wow," Kurt says with genuine awe. "That sounds fascinating…and hard. Shouldn't you be studying, like, all the time?"
"No, not really." Sebastian finishes off his cronut and sucks the glaze off his fingertips. Kurt's eyes go wide and he turns away, focusing on the sidewalk ahead of them, on his Docs as his feet roll across the dirty pavement to keep from staring at Sebastian's lips. "I'm ahead in all my classes. In fact, I'm closer to being considered a sophomore than a freshman at the moment."
"How did you swing that?" Kurt mumbles from behind his hand as he chews the last bit of his cronut.
"A lot of hard work." Sebastian shrugs, sounding surprisingly humble. "I've been working towards it since my junior year of high school. I took online courses over the summers, got my gen eds out of the way, took a few core classes, got credit for some higher level electives I took at Dalton, and interned over the interim break."
"Uh, okay. Color me impressed." Kurt shakes his head, trying to fit the picture of this hardworking, ambitious man with the wise ass that made his life miserable so many times.
"Why?" Sebastian side-eyes Kurt, bumping him with his shoulder. "Did you think I was just a pretty face and a tight ass?"
Kurt rolls his eyes and bumps Sebastian back.
"I guess I didn't think you'd be working on the right side of the justice system," Kurt teases.
"Well, I can't spend all of my time running around like a cartoon villain, causing all sorts of comical mayhem everywhere I go."
Kurt chuckles, biting it back when he notices Sebastian look at him and smile – not his usual crooked smirk; but the soft, vulnerable curl of his lips that Kurt rarely gets the privilege to see, and Kurt realizes he might have been flirting. He can't help it though. He's so comfortable around Sebastian. He feels freer talking to Sebastian. He knows that whatever he says to Sebastian will stay between the two of them. Kurt's successes or fears or even his anger won't tear apart Sebastian's self-esteem or completely derail his life. Most important of all, Sebastian doesn't judge, which took some getting used to, all things considered.
They cross the street in silence, Kurt draining what's left of his coffee and pitching the cup into a trashcan outside the doors of the school. Sebastian rolls up his sleeve and looks at his watch, squinting down to read the face.
"Is it just me, or are we here earlier than normal?" Sebastian asks. He holds the door open for Kurt who steps inside, and Sebastian follows, holding on to every opportunity he gets to talk to Kurt before he needs to leave and take the lonely train ride to the NYU campus.
"Yeah, well, I signed up for an extra stage combat lesson to hone my bo staff skills," Kurt says, leading Sebastian through the halls.
"I thought you took stage combat with Blaine," Sebastian recalls from an earlier conversation.
"The last time we sparred in class together, he tried to lobotomize me," Kurt explains. "Besides, it's not an official class, per se."
By the time they arrive to the correct classroom it's already full of students hanging around the perimeter, talking and whispering, or lightly sparring, working on footwork and switching between holds. Kurt glances up at the clock on the wall.
"Good," he says, dropping his bag in an unoccupied corner and unbuttoning his peacoat, "I've still got a few minutes."
Sebastian watches Kurt take off his coat and lay it out carefully over his messenger bag. He unzips his hoodie, peeling it down his arms and Sebastian sucks in a breath at the sight of the tight tank top underneath – ribbed and black and covering precious little in comparison to the clothes Kurt usually wears, which might be tight as sin but show no skin.
And Kurt's skin – that pale, creamy, flawless skin – makes Sebastian's tongue tingle and his mouth water.
Kurt's eyes flick up just as Sebastian has the good sense to look away, as luck would have it, in the direction of two students heading their way, dressed in similar workout clothes as Kurt, holding a bo staff in hand and wearing matching wolfish grins.
"Hello, Kurt," the first man says, his words curling with the hint of a Colombian accent. "Care to introduce us to your yummy friend?"
Kurt looks between the two men blocking their path and smiles politely – pink lips stretched tight over white teeth with no sincerity.
Kurt turns to Sebastian and gestures to the two students, starting with the tanned-skin man who first spoke.
"Sebastian," he says, "this is Carlos and Lalo. Lalo, Carlos, this is Sebastian."
Sebastian looks over both men with a nod and a brief, "Hello." Carlos is tall with a dancer's build and extremely defined arms (though Sebastian thinks maybe Carlos is overcompensating for something through bicep curls). Lalo is much tanner than Carlos and his shaved head shows a couple of weeks' worth of dark stubble. He turns to his companion and shares a knowing smile.
"Did you come to join our class today?" Lalo asks. "Or is Kurt giving you private lessons?"
Carlos titters in a distinctly un-masculine fashion, and Kurt bites his tongue from the twenty or so comebacks lined up in his head, begging to lash out.
"Is he good enough to give lessons?" Sebastian asks. Kurt can detect that teasing Smythe tone in the undercurrent of his smooth, charming voice and Kurt sighs. Somehow he sees himself paying for bringing Sebastian to class today.
"Good? He's the best in our class by far." Carlos gushes dramatically.
"Is that so?" Sebastian drawls, turning to face Kurt who stares pointedly back, hands on hips, a dangerous challenge in his blue-grey eyes. "Are you going to show me how you use your stick, Hummel?" Sebastian slips off his coat to a softly murmured chorus of ooo's and whispered catcalls, and without looking around the room Kurt can tell all eyes are on them. He turns his face up to the ceiling and groans, sweeping his head around and locking eyes with his instructor. He motions to Sebastian.
"Can I…"
"Just remember…" the severe upper classman says with an affirmative nod, "safety first, safety last, safety always."
Kurt walks to the bo staff rack, ignoring the amused expression on Sebastian's face as he watches him saunter by to grab the last staff.
"Crap," Kurt mutters, looking around the room for an abandoned staff anywhere.
"Here," Carlos rushes forward, bypassing Kurt and heading straight for Sebastian, "you can borrow mine."
"Uh, thanks," Sebastian says, trying to take the staff from the eager man who will simply not let go, staring up at Sebastian with adoring heart eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Kurt says, wedging his bo staff between them. "Back away, Carlos."
Kurt walks off toward the center of the room, Sebastian following close behind.
"You've got some interesting classmates here," he whispers into Kurt's ear, aware that the acoustics of the room will probably amplify any sound.
"Don't tell me there aren't any hopelessly smitten braniacs following you around at your school wherever you go, probably carrying your books between classes, taking notes for you, offering to do your homework assignments."
"I plead the fifth," Sebastian jokes, stopping a few feet from Kurt, bo staff in hand. One look at Kurt, poised to begin, and Sebastian knows he's about to be owned, but he can at least try to put up a good fight.
"Okay, let's work on your stance first," Kurt says, walking behind Sebastian, manipulating arms and legs to get them where they should be. "We work with four main stances, but for now let's just deal with one. The Front Stance. Bend your front knee, straighten your back knee, square your shoulders, and…there."
Kurt walks back around to appraise Sebastian's stance, and a polite applause rises around the room.
"See? They think you look good."
"What took them so long?" Sebastian mocks, trying to hide the fact that he feels mildly self-conscious. It's been so long since he performed anything, he can feel his arms shake with a touch of stage fright.
"It's okay," Kurt says softly, using their close proximity as he adjusts Sebastian's hands on the staff as an excuse to talk to him privately. "Once we get started, you'll forget all about them."
Kurt smiles at Sebastian and Sebastian nods, his heart racing with every touch of Kurt's hand, every brush of his skin against any exposed area of Kurt's body. What should seem so innocent is quickly becoming the biggest turn on of Sebastian's life.
"Now, we use three different holds," Kurt instructs, sliding Sebastian's hands over the staff. "The Normal Hold you'll use most of the time, but widen your grip for blocking."
"You better get used to that one," Carlos calls out, and a spattering of giggles and snickers work their way around the room in a wave.
Sebastian's eyes snap up, but Kurt walks into his field of vision.
"Focus on me," he says. "Don't worry about them. They're not even here. It's just you and me. Alright?"
Sebastian sighs and relaxes at the soothing sound of Kurt's voice trying so hard to keep Sebastian grounded.
"Okay, Sifu Kurt," Sebastian says. "What do you want me to do?"
"It would actually be Sensei Kurt," Kurt says with a chuckle. "Bo fighting is Japanese, not Chinese."
"Ah." Sebastian's legs tremble in the uncomfortable stance they are locked in, but he's determined to stay how Kurt put him, though he realizes if he moves and breaks his stance Kurt would have to fix him again. For the sake of not re-igniting his fading hard-on he decides to stay put.
"We use five basic strikes, but I think we'll be safe with two. The Overhead Front Strike…" Kurt says with a quick demonstration, bring the staff down over Sebastian's head, grinning when Sebastian's reflexes kick in and he blocks the blow, keeping his grip wide. Sebastian hears several students applaud again.
"Good job," Kurt says, and Sebastian's cheeks color despite his efforts not to become too affected by Kurt's praise. "You're going to follow that up with a 4-Point Strike." Kurt attacks again, moving the staff up and down, then side to side, with Sebastian rushing to keep up. Sebastian manages to block all four shots, but the tip of Kurt's bo grazes Sebastian's forehead, ruffling his hair.
"Great," Kurt says, standing in his own Front Stance, which looks vastly more stable than Sebastian's at the moment. "So, why don't you go ahead and just come at me?"
"What?" Sebastian chokes out. "Are you shitting me?"
"There's no better way to learn than to try."
Sebastian shakes his head, regretting getting himself into this position. He already feels the sweat rolling down his spine and he hasn't even really moved yet.
"Lunge forward, and then return to your stance."
"While trying to hit a moving target," Sebastian gripes.
"I'm not going anywhere," Kurt says, and more ooo's travel the room.
Sebastian stutters forward once or twice, partially out of nerves but also not quite willing to bring his bo staff down on Kurt's head, or try since he's certain Kurt's not about to let him land a hit. Sebastian lurches forward spasmodically, bringing the staff over his head with as much strength as he can muster. With barely any energy exerted, Kurt blocks the blow, a loud snap like a firecracker exploding reverberating around the room when the two sticks make contact. With a spin of his staff, Kurt knocks Sebastian's out of his hands and sends it skittering across the floor.
"That's no fair!" Sebastian whines. "You didn't teach me that move."
"You don't need to know the move to defend against it," Kurt returns sagely. "If you had drawn back your staff quicker, I wouldn't have had time to disarm you."
Sebastian grumbles, chasing his staff as it continues to roll, bumping it repeatedly with the toe of his shoe and sending it bouncing along. Carlos stops it with the side of his foot in order to let Sebastian catch up.
"Thanks," Sebastian mutters, bending over to grab the wayward stick and jogs back to his sparring partner. He recreates a lopsided version of his original stance, and waits for Kurt's instruction.
"Okay," Kurt says, renewing his own stance. "I won't do that again. Come at me, and I'll block. This way you get the feel of striking something."
Negligibly more confident after that first initial strike, he lunges at Kurt again, and again Kurt blocks with such little effort you would think he is swatting at mosquitoes and not fending off an attack. Sebastian tries the Overhead Front Strike followed by the 4 Point Strike like Kurt showed him, but when those fail Sebastian starts making up random blows, doing anything to knock Kurt off his guard, but Carlos was right – Kurt is amazing.
After a few minutes, Sebastian is bent over panting, his face red, sweat clinging to his hair, while Kurt stands perfectly composed and waits for Sebastian to recover.
"So…" Sebastian pants, "is this how you spar with Blaine? He attacks and you defend?"
The question is a relatively simple one, but as Kurt tries to think of a way to answer, it hits him. That's not just how they spar. That pretty much describes their whole relationship.
"Not all the time," Kurt says, knowing it's not entirely true. There's a catch in Kurt's voice and Sebastian hears it. He straightens up with a deep breath to calm himself, wiping the sweat off his brow with the cuff of his long-sleeved tee.
"Why don't we flip the script a little, and you come at me," Sebastian suggests.
Kurt raises an eyebrow and laughs condescendingly. It's sassy and sharp and everything that Sebastian had hoped to hear.
"You want me to attack you?" Kurt clarifies.
"Why not?" Sebastian swivels left to right, cracking his back. "I mean, don't try to kill me, of course, but show me the full power of a Kurt Hummel onslaught."
Kurt doesn't move, staring at Sebastian as if he's gone completely nuts, twirling his bo staff from hand to hand as he considers his offer.
Sebastian walks up to Kurt, leans in close and says, "You can pretend I'm Blaine."
That is the turning point; the thing that changes his mind. Kurt isn't a pushover, but he could never seem to take out the full measure of his anger on Blaine in class. Blaine would never be able to take it.
But Sebastian can handle it, and to top it off, he's asking for it.
Kurt eyes Sebastian as he repositions himself in front of Kurt, grinning from ear to ear with the bo staff blocking the upper half of his body. Kurt positions himself, too, and tries to concentrate. He tries to picture Blaine the last time they sparred in class, when he came at Kurt, when he tried to hurt him, or maybe just tried to embarrass him. They never discussed it so Kurt didn't know for sure, but Kurt almost hated him for it.
Kurt twirls the staff one last time in front of him, and with not a single move to telegraph his intentions, he brings it down over his head with such force Sebastian thinks his own paltry staff will snap in half. Kurt sighs and smiles, tremendous satisfaction vibrating through his body from the backlash of the blow. It feels good, in a cathartic and nearly erotic kind of way. Kurt repeats the blow, and Sebastian is quicker to block, but he still stumbles backward. He's tired out from the dozen or so strikes he delivered, and from the look in Kurt's eyes Sebastian can tell he's nowhere near done.
Kurt advances quickly. Sebastian's muscles strain to grip the bo staff, backing away to dodge Kurt's staff and when he can't, simply waving the thing feebly left and right to avoid Kurt's blows. The students in the classroom cheer, and if he could make his facial muscles do anything but tense up in anticipation of a slap across the face, Sebastian would smile, because when Sebastian looks at Kurt, Kurt looks alive. No longer caged by that prison of mediocrity they call Lima, Ohio. Kurt has found the place where he belongs. He's in his element here. Not a punching bag at McKinley or the possessively titled but otherwise anonymous 'Blaine's boyfriend' at Dalton. He is a shining star at one of the most prestigious performing art schools on the whole of the east coast…and he's currently kicking Sebastian's ass.
Sebastian feels his back collide with the wall and he knows he's done for. Kurt knocks Sebastian's knuckles, not too hard but hard enough to smart like hell, and Sebastian reflexively drops his staff. Kurt takes advantage of Sebastian's moment of distraction and pins him, his staff pressed up against Sebastian's neck, pushing his chin up enough to make it hard for Sebastian to breathe.
"So, what do you think of the way I handle my stick now, Smythe?" Kurt asks, panting heavily against Sebastian's neck.
Sebastian swallows and Kurt can see his Adam's Apple bob above the staff.
"I think you do pretty well, Hummel," Sebastian admits. Kurt lowers his staff and passes it off to Carlos, who rushed amid the fray to collect his own dropped staff, hovering around longer than necessary to try and catch any gossip-worthy snippets of forbidden conversation.
Sebastian stares at Kurt in a way that's both captivating and disarming with its raw heat and Kurt forces himself to turn away.
"A penny for your thoughts," Kurt says, trying to calm the flush in his cheeks, hoping for some snarky remark to bring them back from this charged tension to something that Kurt knows how to handle.
When Kurt ventures a glance back, the heat in Sebastian's eyes is still there, growing in intensity, raising the temperature of the air around them.
"God, Kurt, I really want to kiss you right now."
Kurt steps back involuntarily, stumbling over his feet in the process, righting himself before he tumbles to the floor.
Kurt sees the look on Sebastian's face change immediately, his eyes cooling, shifting left and right nervously, lips fumbling over an apology.
"Kurt, I'm sorry…I…"
"Mr. Hummel," the instructor calls from the far corner of the classroom, "if you're done serving your attractive friend, I would like to get started with the lesson now."
"You're not gay, Steve," Lalo quips back.
"That doesn't mean I can't appreciate a handsome man, Lalo," Steve returns flatly.
Sebastian steps away from the wall, still trying desperately to apologize, but Kurt grabs his arm and silences him.
"It's okay," Kurt says. "Don't worry about it."
"Are you sure?" Sebastian sighs with relief. "Because I don't want…"
"Just…forget it," Kurt says, shaking his head. "It's fine. I really need to get ready for class, though, so…I'll see you later?"
Sebastian's entire face transforms, and all at once the man that Kurt is used to seeing, the more mature man with his boyish quick wit and patented snark, returns.
"What? Did you think an impromptu ass whooping was going to scare me away?" Sebastian winks with a click of his tongue. "You're not getting rid of me that easy."
Sebastian lingers a breath longer with Kurt's hand wrapped around his arm, and then backs away, heading for the door. Kurt watches Sebastian leave, his eyes trailing him when he turns at the doorway with a crooked smile and a wave, but when he rounds the corner into the hall and disappears Kurt feels heavy, and a little hollow. He hears an exaggerated sniffing sound travel over his right ear, then behind his back to his left ear. He spins around to see a grinning Lalo shaking his head.
"What are you doing?" Kurt asks with a twinge of disgust at the thought of this man smelling him.
"Oh, I'm just curious if it's some kind of pheromone cologne you're wearing," the man says, his brown eyes smiling.
"What?" Kurt repeats, still not quite sure what he's getting at.
"Yeah," Carlos agrees, joining them from the hall where he got the honor of the final glimpse of Sebastian before he left the building, "or are you wearing diamond encrusted undies. What is your secret that you've got all these hot guys wrapped around your fingers?" Carlos wiggles his fingers in front of his face for emphasis as he sashays up beside Lalo, whose arms are crossed over his muscular chest.
"Sebastian's a friend," Kurt says in his defense. "He's not wrapped around my finger."
"Like hell he's not," Lalo says, turning back toward the door as though Sebastian would pop back in at the mention of his name. "That man has it bad for you, Hummel."
Kurt thrills and despises the way his heart falters at the thought of Sebastian wanting him. Kurt knows he does. Sebastian told him, but hearing it from someone else, someone not inclined to cloud the truth, makes it seem all the more real.
"He's not mine," Kurt says, with a touch of longing that he can't hide.
"Well, then can I have him?" Carlos asks, his wide eyes hopeful. "That man can borrow my bo stick any time."
Kurt doesn't know where the strange possessive streak comes from, but it rears its head full force, and Kurt leans in to Carlos's face.
"No."