A/N: Here is a follow-up to the story 'Ninety-Six Days', right after Sebastian tells Kurt the truth about who he really is. Rated M for language and sexual situations. Warnings for mention of underage smoking and symptoms of anxiety.

"Ninety-six days," Kurt mutters in disbelief, staring down at his hands that have started shaking again. "That's…that's more than three months." Kurt swallows, flexing his fingers, balling his hands into fists, squeezing them tighter and tighter. "That's a long time."

"It is," Sebastian agrees for lack of anything better to say.

"And you're my husband?" Kurt says. "How?"

"Well, we got married," Sebastian drawls sarcastically. "There was a ceremony, we exchanged rings, that's kind of how you become a husband."

"No, I mean, when did we meet? Where? Was it love at first sight?" Kurt looks at the smirk on Sebastian's face and frowns. "Something tells me probably not."

"Nice." Sebastian rolls his eyes, but his clenched jaw melts into a more relaxed smile. "No, it wasn't exactly what you would call 'love at first sight'."

Kurt raises an eyebrow, hoping Sebastian will explain, but Sebastian shakes his head.

"Look," Sebastian says, the smile fading again, "excuse me if I don't rush to divulge the entire story of our life together, but I've repeated it over and over and it doesn't seem to trigger any memories, so I thought tonight we could try something new."

Kurt doesn't respond right away; the concept of 'something new' with regard to regaining his memories meaning little to him.

"What do we usually do?" Kurt asks.

"Well…" Sebastian runs a hand through his hair, leaning his elbow against the bar and cradling his head in his hand, "…we get in my car, drive to my penthouse uptown, and I tell you the story of our fantastic romance from beginning to end…" The way Sebastian says 'fantastic romance' – the sarcastic, bitter, strained tone of his voice – makes Kurt chuckle. "Then we call your dad and your stepmom…"

Kurt gasps. Finding out he has a husband is confusing and strange enough, but his father? As many times as he had imagined his parents it never occurred to him that they might still be alive somewhere, waiting for him to return. Kurt's lip quivers, a tiny movement but even in the dark bar Sebastian catches it. He slides off his bar stool, closing the short distance between them, giving Kurt the chance to stop him or pull away. Sebastian wraps one arm around him and then the other, and then all at once Kurt dissolves into his arms.

"Shhh," Sebastian soothes, "it's alright. I'm sorry. I'm blurting things out and…"

"No," Kurt mumbles through tears, "no, it's okay, but maybe for now we can not talk about…about my dad." The word almost doesn't come out, caught somewhere between a sniffle and a sob. Sebastian nods; Kurt feels it against his neck. Sebastian's skin brushes against his neck and it's amazing; comforting and familiar. It unlocks something inside Kurt's head. Images don't come back to him completely. They spark in flashes of fleeting thoughts; split second revelations drowned out by too much noise or too much light, obscuring the important details and leaving a soupçon behind.

A whiff of cologne.

The touch of fingertips.

A feather-light kiss, somewhere along his temple.

His hand on a shoulder covered in black fabric. A tuxedo maybe? The tingling sensation firing in his fingertips is smooth and rich.

Are you alright?

A chuckle - nervous when he shouldn't be.

Of course I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be alright?

Well, it's kind of our wedding night. Are you nervous?

Another chuckle, too loud, trying too hard to cover his fears.

Why would I be nervous? Christ, Sebastian! We fucked last night and twice before the ceremony. What in hell do I have to be nervous about?

Because it's different now. It means something different. It means more.

Are you telling me that Sebastian Smythe, king of the one night stand, is having deep philosophical thoughts about sex?

Kurt, I'm always having deep thoughts about sex, philosophical or otherwise.

Kurt rolls his eyes and lays his head on his new husband's shoulder.

But, yes, Kurt. It's not the same for you?

Kurt's eyes flick up to meet Sebastian's, surprised to see a twinge of hurt. Kurt nods, a shy smile on his lips.

Yes, it's the same feeling for me. I know we've done it tons of times, but, call me a silly romantic, I want this to be special. I don't want to mess it up.

Sebastian's slow burning smile returns.

If you do that thing you did with your tongue earlier, then I promise you are not going to mess it up.

Kurt smacks Sebastian on the arm and the nervous tension bleeds away, because they're alone, it's sunset on the beach, and their beautiful future is beginning.

"We were married on the beach," Kurt says suddenly, stunned at how he knows that.

"Yes," Sebastian whispers, "our wedding is the one thing you seem to remember most."

Kurt tries to conjure up any other memory – the ceremony, their first date, high school - but the sparks fizzle out, the whispers become silent, and all the flashes of light drift away.

"Let's get out of here," Kurt says. "Let's try your plan."

"Okay," Sebastian agrees, holding on tighter, and for a long time neither one of them moves – Kurt absorbing the feeling of belonging that comes with Sebastian holding him in his arms and Sebastian relishing embracing his husband again.

Kurt counts several long moments before he speaks again.

"You know, eventually we're going to have to let go if we're going to leave."

He doesn't want to let go but he's eager to move on with this plan of Sebastian's.

"Nope," Sebastian says.

Kurt giggles, but the way Sebastian keeps him trapped against his body makes Kurt fear that they may actually spend the whole night hugging in this bar.

"You know," Kurt whispers into Sebastian's ear so he can feel the heat of Kurt's breath on his skin, "if we go back to your place, there's so much more we can do than just hug."

Sebastian smiles. Kurt can feel it against his neck, and the tentative kiss that follows makes Kurt shiver from the tips of his toes to the ends of his hair.

"There's my man," Sebastian murmurs against Kurt's skin. Sebastian sweeps Kurt off his bar stool, leaving a twenty on the bar to cover his tab, and they walk together arm in arm out of the club.

"I parked in an underground lot just a few blocks from here," Sebastian says, steering Kurt away from the night club. A small gang of teenagers huddled together outside smoking and laughing and shooting the shit all smile and wave as Kurt shuffles past. A few even nod at Sebastian, raising a hand to give him a high five and a wink. Kurt watches with amusement, turning his head to take one last look at the gaggle before they walk away.

"Do you know them?" Kurt asks.

"You've introduced me to some of them," Sebastian says. "They don't know that we're married though. You asked me not to tell anyone."

Sebastian kicks a broken chunk of cement on the sidewalk ahead of him and watches it skip away along the concrete. Kurt can't help the guilt that fills him so completely at the thought of denying this amazing man who comes down here every night to watch him sing and tries over and over to bring him back to the life he had before. Kurt wants to apologize but he can't. He can't imagine the reason why him from ninety-six days ago wouldn't want to scream from the rooftops that this man is his husband, but there had to be one. He doesn't want to give a half-ass apology without knowing why he would make such a lousy decision, but now Kurt doesn't know what to say and they wallow in the silence too long with that comment still hanging in the air.

"Tell me something about me? About us?" Kurt asks, putting up a hand to stop Sebastian when he starts to object. "I know you have a plan and I respect that, but just to while the time so I don't focus on how fucking cold it is out here."

"Well, you're a frickin' stubborn-ass princess," Sebastian says, peeling off his own coat and putting it around Kurt's shoulders. Kurt wraps the thick material around him, losing himself in Sebastian's warmth and his smell, snuggling into the arm that has wrapped around his waist and isn't letting go.

"Okay, now that we've got that sorted out, what else?"

Kurt leans his head against Sebastian's shoulder and Sebastian curbs his surly attitude.

Sebastian has a list of prepared anecdotes already committed to memory for just such an occasion; bits and pieces of information that stray away from certain hot-button topics like the fight that landed Kurt in the hospital, his father's heart condition, the death of his mother…or of his stepbrother. Sebastian wanted to shoot himself the day he told Kurt that his mother had died in a car accident when he was only eight years old. Kurt cried and cried; absolutely inconsolable. When he had calmed down enough to speak he asked Sebastian to take him to a tattoo parlor so that he could have his mother's name put on his ankle, in the hopes that he wouldn't forget.

Several times after that Kurt asked Sebastian who Elizabeth was.

"Why did I print up a hundred of those letters?" Kurt asks as they turn into the parking garage. "Why not less? Why not more?"

"You wanted to see if your memories would come back on their own," Sebastian explains. "You didn't like the idea of psychiatrists and whatnot picking your brain. You said if after a hundred days you didn't come around that I should…"

Sebastian pauses to take a breath, shuddering slightly with a chill from the cold night air.

"Leave me?" Kurt gasps in horror. "Forget about me?"

"No," Sebastian chuckles, pointing to a sleek, black car in the distance. "Tie you up with duct tape and drag you back to my penthouse."

Kurt bursts out laughing.

"Would you have actually done that?" he asks.

"Duct tape's in the trunk of my car." Sebastian pulls his key fob out of his pocket and disengages the alarm and the locks on his car.

Kurt's mouth drops the way it always does when he sees Sebastian's car for the first time.

"You have a Porsche?" Kurt asks in awe with Sebastian parroting away, laughing when Kurt smacks him on the arm.

"Yes, I have a Porsche." Sebastian opens the passenger side door and helps Kurt inside. "You seem to have a thing for Porches."

"But you knew that, right?" Kurt rolls his eyes and falls back in the seat with a huff. Sebastian leans down low and catches Kurt's stormy eyes.

"That's why I bought it." He closes the door, and Kurt feels himself blush, his ears definitely a bright pink by the time Sebastian sits in the driver's seat.

The conversation shifts to a lull on the ride uptown. In his head Sebastian goes over the details of his plan, mentally scrolling through a list of items, making sure he didn't leave anything out. Kurt simply enjoys the ride, wondering if it would be terribly gauche of him to tell this man – his husband that he's known for years but really only remembers from the last few hours, that sitting in this gorgeous car is getting him hot. It's a little too difficult a subject for Kurt to navigate, so he chooses instead to keep his mouth shut and ponder killing his hard-on in silence.

If Sebastian's luxurious car inspired awe, the penthouse where he lives is positively breathtaking in comparison, but Kurt suspects he's drooled over it like a noob several times before so he keeps his opinion to himself. Sebastian pulls up to the curb and hands his keys over to the valet while the doorman opens the car door for Kurt.

"Mr. Hummel-Smythe," the man says with a tip of his hat and a genuine smile as Kurt steps out of the car. "It's nice to see you this evening."

"Uh…" Kurt throws a glance over his shoulder. Sebastian joins him quickly, taking his arm and giving it a comforting squeeze.

"Thanks, Antonio." Sebastian grins at the older man who hurries ahead of them to open the door to the lobby. Sebastian rushes Kurt into the building and straight for the elevator.

"Mr. Hummel-Smythe?"

"Well, technically this isn't just my penthouse. It's ours." Sebastian presses the button for the top floor. "After we got married, you hyphenated your name."

"And how did you explain all this to your doorman?" Kurt asks with a hint of snark, gesturing over his body, from his colored hair and his piercings to his ripped jeans and his tight black shirt. "I definitely didn't look like this in that wedding picture you showed me. I probably didn't look like this when I lived here with you."

Sebastian wraps his fingers around Kurt's wrist and pushes him up against the elevator wall, pinning him gently with his body.

"Not that it's any of his business, but I told him you got a job singing at a dive bar downtown and that you're the hottest thing on two legs."

Kurt swallows hard, guilt welling up in him again for not telling all those leather clad nobodies that Sebastian is his husband.

"Sebastian, I…"

"Can I kiss you?" Sebastian whispers, cutting Kurt short.

"I…I didn't think you'd find a need to ask," Kurt whispers.

"I always ask," Sebastian says, his eyes staring at Kurt's lips.

"But…aren't I your husband?" Kurt asks, his own gaze falling to Sebastian's lips. "You can kiss me whenever you want."

"I'm not going to take what you don't want to give."

"Oh," Kurt says lamely, nodding, inching closer and closer to Sebastian's mouth. Sebastian's lips barely brush against his and Kurt surges forward, grabbing at the lapels of Sebastian's suit and drawing him closer. Sebastian moans into Kurt's mouth, bracing against the wall with a hand on each side of Kurt's head to keep his balance as Kurt devours him hungrily. The sparks return, firing behind Kurt's eyes with their intense white light, blurring some images, others so clear they give Kurt a searing headache.

The one that comes into focus, so vivid it can't be ignored or swept aside, is of Sebastian, a younger Sebastian, sitting across a table, that same irrepressible smirk on his face but this one cruel and calculating. Kurt sees his mouth moving but his voice weaves in and out, and Kurt can only make out one coherent sentence.

One of us has a hard luck case of the 'gay face' and it ain't me.

Kurt pulls away suddenly, jolted backward by the memory as if the younger Sebastian wearing the prep school uniform reached out through Kurt's brain and slapped him in the face.

"You told me I had a hard luck case of the 'gay face'?" Kurt accuses.

Sebastian shakes his head, smiling at the irony.

"You kiss me like that…and that's the thing you choose to remember?" Sebastian pants against Kurt's lips.

"Sorry," Kurt giggles. "It wasn't exactly by choice."

"I'm sorry," Sebastian sighs, "that I ever said that."

"I believe you."

Kurt reaches up one more time and presses his lips gently against Sebastian's mouth right as the doors slide open.

"So…" Kurt starts.

"So…" Sebastian repeats, eyes locked back on Kurt's swollen lips.

"What's this big plan of yours?" Kurt bites his lower lip and hears Sebastian scrape his nails down the wall behind him.

"Come on in and I'll show you."

Sebastian pushes off the wall and takes Kurt's hand, walking him backward into the hall and leading him to the only door on the floor. Sebastian unlocks the door and pushes it open, letting Kurt walk in ahead of him. Kurt steps inside, his jaw dropped to his chest. He spins in a full circle, knowing that he's ogling now but he can't seem to help himself. If he ever lived in this palace he surely doesn't remember it. He stumbles to the staircase that leads from the living room to the upper level, feeling as if that is where he needs to go.

"Don't go into the bedroom yet," Sebastian calls after him.

Why his feet manage to take him straight to the bedroom he can't explain, though apparently he's had sex with Sebastian for the last ninety-five days in a row. Maybe his body remembers where it is he really wants to go. Sebastian races up the stairs behind him, taking them two at a time.

"Okay…" Sebastian stands beside him with his hand on the door knob, preparing for the reveal. "Are you ready?"

Kurt stares at the door, waiting patiently for whatever Sebastian has to show him. Kurt takes a breath and holds, then nods. Sebastian swings the door open and turns on the light. He stands aside to give Kurt space and waits for his reaction.

Kurt doesn't do anything right away. He doesn't step in. He doesn't even move his head to look around. He's staring unfocused straight ahead. Only when he can't hold his breath any longer does he breathe in sharply and then walk inside. The room is huge, but that's not the incredible part. Photographs cover every inch of wall space; photographs of Kurt organized and mounted in chronological order. Kurt starts at the beginning and examines them closely - baby pictures, school pictures, pictures of him dancing and singing, all with dates and captions.

Kurt and Elizabeth – 3 days old.

Kurt's first day of ballet class – age 5.

Kurt and Burt, backyard tea party – age 8.

Kurt and Burt fixing the family Olds – age 12.

Kurt stops with his fingers hovering over a photograph of him with a group of other high school students dressed in matching outfits captioned 'The New Directions – Junior Year' to turn and look at Sebastian in amazement, catching him mid-yawn.

"You did this," Kurt breathes. "You did all of this today. That's why you're so tired."

Sebastian shrugs and smiles.

"I also made you this," he says, walking off to the bedside table and returning with a leather-bound journal, brown cover barely cracked which means it has to be new. Kurt takes it in his hands and opens it, flipping through the pages. "This is everything," Sebastian says as Kurt's eyes skim over the words. "The story of your life, and of our life together. Everything your…well, your father could tell me…" Sebastian says it quickly, trying to skirt past the word in an effort to abide by Kurt's wishes and not mention his dad, "everything I tell you every night. I figure maybe you could read it in the morning when you wake up so you don't freak out too badly…you know…for when you sleep…here…"

Kurt closes the book and sees gold embossing on the cover; large lettered words that say, "Read this when you wake up."

Kurt blinks, trying to settle the tears that have collected in his eyes when he notices the bed for the first time – the low, wooden end table positioned beside what is normally his side of the bed, and the cream sheets with the pink poesy pattern.

"Those…those are my sheets," Kurt mumbles, stepping forward and running his fingers over the flannel material. Then he points at the tiny table. "And that's my table."

"Yeah," Sebastian says, following Kurt as he walks toward it. "I had to go to eight stores to find it."

"I bought it at the thrift shop…" Kurt traces the grain of the wood with his fingertips.

Sebastian chuckles.

"Well, now you have the $800 version."

Kurt laughs with disbelief.

"You did all this…for me?" Kurt looks up at Sebastian with eyes that start to really see him for the first time. His husband. The man who pledged his life to him – for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, and boy was he holding up his end of the bargain.

"Of course I did." Sebastian comes up behind him and holds him. "I kind of love you, babe."

"Only kind of?" Kurt teases, trying to stop the trembling that has spread over his whole body.

"Try…completely…" Sebastian takes the journal from Kurt's hands and sets it carefully on the table. "Utterly…" He slips the coat from Kurt's shoulders and tosses it onto a nearby chair. "Absolutely…" Sebastian runs his hands down Kurt's arms, turning those trembles into fingers of fire racing all over his body. He runs the tip of his nose over Kurt's shoulders, ending at the crook of his neck, kissing him gently, "…madly in love with you."

Sebastian's lips latch onto that spot of sensitive skin at the base of Kurt's neck, and Kurt's knees buckle.

"A-am I completely, utterly, absolutely, madly in love with you, too?" Kurt asks, his voice shaking as he fights to stand upright.

"You told me you were…"

Sebastian sighs against Kurt's skin but his voice sounds sad, full of longing for the man Kurt was and the life they had.

"I think I was," Kurt mutters, melting back into Sebastian's arms. "I think…part of me is. I just need to find it."

"It's okay." Sebastian turns Kurt around in his arms. "Take your time."

"Well, can we start here?" Kurt turns his eyes towards the bed behind them.

"Funny…" Sebastian grabs the hem of Kurt's shirt and lifts it over his head, pulling it off his arms and tossing it aside, "…we usually finish there."

Kurt bites back a smile, fumbling with the buttons of Sebastian's suit wherever he can find them – his jacket, his shirt, his slacks. Sebastian lets Kurt undress him, lets him look at his body with every piece of clothing he removes, lets him trace the lines of his chest and the muscles of his legs with his fingertips and his tongue. It's the same every time but Sebastian never gets tired of it, because it's like the first time. As much of a curse as Kurt's memory loss has been, this part has been a bit of a blessing.

They're still good together; they still fit.

Sebastian falls back onto the bed, bringing Kurt with him. He runs his hands down Kurt's chest, reaching for the button to Kurt's jeans. Kurt closes his eyes and rests his head back on his shoulders.

Each touch of Sebastian's fingertips on Kurt's skin ignites a memory.

Dancing together in a bar…or maybe a night club.

Making out in the back seat of a large, black car…not Sebastian's but Kurt's.

Saying goodbye in an airport with tears flowing down Kurt's cheeks, his nose running, but he doesn't seem to care who sees.

Sebastian twirling him around in his arms; a gold ring glittering on Kurt's finger.

Kurt absorbs Sebastian's touches and welcomes all the memories they bring, even if they come at him fast, overwhelming him as another part of his brain tries hard to concentrate on the here and now, where Sebastian's lips move down his skin to that tattoo on his thigh that he loves to lick, his hands grabbing for Kurt's to lace their fingers together. Kurt whimpers, feeling the last strains of his sanity siphon away when Sebastian takes his cock in his mouth and starts to suck slowly.

"Oh, Sebastian," Kurt moans, trying not to move his hips and force himself into Sebastian's mouth, trying to hold on to every lap of Sebastian's tongue because he never wants this to end.

"More," Sebastian groans around the head of Kurt's cock in his mouth.

"M-more what?" Kurt stutters into the air, hotter now than it had been a few minutes ago.

"My name," Sebastian mutters, reluctant to give up Kurt's cock in order to speak. "Keep saying my name…please…"

"Sebastian," Kurt obliges, almost unconsciously when Sebastian takes the entirety of Kurt's length down his throat. "Oh, Sebastian!"

"Yes," Sebastian groans. "God, yes…"

Vibrations from Sebastian's mouth shoot all over Kurt's skin, and he loses the little thread of self-control he has left.

"Sebastian…" Kurt's broken voice pleads, but he makes sure to keep saying Sebastian's name. "Please, Sebastian…"

"Do you want to cum this way?" Sebastian asks, circling the sword tattoo in small circles with his tongue.

"I…Sebastian…what about you?"

"We have all night, darling. I'll get my chance." Sebastian licks a long stripe between Kurt's legs, and he keens loudly.

"Th-then yes," Kurt begs. "Please! Please make me cum!"

Sebastian smiles and lowers his mouth over him slowly, swallowing around him as he goes, fueled by Kurt's mewling whimpers and constant whispers and moans.

"Sebastiansebastiansebastiansebastian…" Kurt murmurs over and over until it's not even a just word anymore, but an exclamation, a promise, a prayer; a single stream of consciousness. In this moment before the possibility of remembering scurries away and one thing overwhelms Kurt – the total ecstasy of cumming down Sebastian's throat – he realizes that this is what he longs to remember most; feeling complete and connected.

He has a family.

He has a home.

The walls are covered in proof of a life well lived; one that he wants to return to.

Everything will come back to him in good time. For right now, Sebastian is his memory.

Sebastian climbs up Kurt's body and without a word captures his mouth, and Kurt takes this moment to clear his muddled mind and treasure it – the taste of himself on his husband's lips, the slide of Sebastian's skin over Kurt's body, all the sacrifices that have been made so that Kurt can climb out of the darkness and learn how to live again.

He compartmentalizes every moment of Sebastian's fingers on his face, tracing around his smile and the drying tracks of his tears, the way Sebastian's beautiful green eyes darken with lust and yet still look down at him with such unbridled, sweet love and affection.

Kurt gathers all of these things so that later he can add them somewhere to the pages of Sebastian's journal.

Sebastian wakes before Kurt in the early morning, the dark sky outside the penthouse's large picture windows barely kissed with traces of sunlight on the horizon. He looks down at the sleeping man beside him and smiles, overjoyed to have his husband with him in his bed, but wary of what will greet him when Kurt finally wakes up.

Last night was so wonderful, as all the nights before it had been, which is why it gets progressively more and more painful to face the fury of a frightened Kurt Hummel, lost and confused, half-dressed and barreling toward the door, throwing curses Sebastian's way. Sebastian's resolve is like steel, and he vows to see this ride to the end however long it takes, but every day that passes he wonders how much longer that will be.

He brushes a kiss along Kurt's temple, lingering for a moment in case this is the last kiss he gets before the evening. He sets the journal beside Kurt, hoping that it's the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, then he slinks carefully out of bed, wrapping a robe around his body and heading down to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

Sebastian watches the coffee drip into the pot, counting each drop that falls, distracting his mind from the man asleep upstairs. He drinks his coffee standing by the counter, eyes trained on the staircase that leads up to the second floor, waiting for Kurt to come racing down. It usually doesn't take too long when Sebastian gets out of bed for Kurt to follow suit; probably the heat of his body escaping jars Kurt awake., but after an hour passes and Kurt doesn't emerge, Sebastian considers climbing back upstairs and into bed.

Sebastian hears the bedroom door creak open and Kurt's footsteps pad down the hallway and onto the staircase, slowly picking his way from stair to stair, trying to be as quiet as possible. Sebastian sips his coffee and braces himself for whatever Kurt might bring with him – a fit of tears, a level a hundred screaming fit, or a right cross and a threat to call the police.

Kurt appears dressed in Sebastian's dress shirt from the night before, an expression on his face that's slightly terrified but mostly curious.

"Sebastian?" Kurt says quietly. Sebastian stops drinking his coffee and lowers his cup to the counter, turning with the shadow of a hopeful grin on his face.

"Do you…remember me?" Sebastian asks, not making a move to reach out to Kurt so he doesn't shrink away.

"No…not really," Kurt answers sadly. "Not in clear images. More like feelings. Impressions." Kurt raises his arms and Sebastian can see the brown leather cover of the journal in his hands. He hugs it to his chest. "But, this book…"

"You read it?"

"Yes…most of it," Kurt admits. "The parts you wrote about how we met, our first kiss…a few things I guess I wrote last night."

Sebastian can sense Kurt's discomfort. He shifts from foot to foot ceaselessly, gaze darting to the front door.

"You can take that with you if you want," Sebastian says, trying to come across as nonchalant in the face of his failure and Kurt's inevitable departure, "I have another one here."

"I…" Kurt starts walking toward Sebastian, staring at his bare feet pattering across the hardwood floor as he chews his lip, "…was actually hoping I wouldn't have to leave." Kurt raises his eyes to meet Sebastian's wide-eyed stare. "I was hoping I could stay here, with you, and give this a try."

Kurt doesn't wait for a response. He crowds Sebastian with his body and Sebastian wraps his arms around him.

"But, I thought you said you didn't remember me?" Sebastian asks, nuzzling Kurt's hair with his nose and breathing him in.

"I do and I don't," Kurt admits. "I don't remember how we met, but I know you take your coffee black with two sugars. I don't remember our first date, but I know your favorite color is blue. All this stuff you wrote in the journal…I want that all back." Kurt sighs when Sebastian kisses his forehead. "I may not remember much about you, but you feel like home, Sebastian. I want to come home. What do you think?"

"I think," Sebastian says with a long, shuddering sigh, "that it sounds like a start."