Wait, you're meeting Chandler for lunch? Who's Chandler?"

Kurt shifted his phone to the other ear and took another sip of his coffee. "He's the guy I met at the Warbler party," he told Mercedes for what felt like the fifth time. "I told you. The one who's applying to New York schools." He scanned the food court but couldn't see Chandler anywhere. They'd planned to meet at noon, and it was only 11:55, but Kurt liked punctuality.

"Okay, you need to run this by me one more time," Mercedes said in his ear, "because I still don't understand how you get from going upstairs with Sebastian to having lunch with Jiminy Cricket."

"See, you do remember him. And don't call him that," he admonished her even if he couldn't help admitting that the comparison was pretty apt. "And that thing with Sebastian was just sex."

He thought he'd tossed that off with conviction but Mercedes' snort suggested otherwise. "Yeah, tell that to someone who hasn't been having girl-talk sleepovers with you for the past three years. You don't do 'just sex.'"

Kurt looked around the increasingly crowded room and lowered his voice. "Well Sebastian only does 'just sex' and I knew that when I kissed him and I did it anyway. 'Just sex' was the deal from the start. Sebastian's hot and it was amazing and it's not happening again."

"Oh, so you're perfectly fine going from amazing sex with the hottest guy around to shopping dates with a hyperactive insect boy?"

Kurt sighed. "This is my life, Mercedes. This is how my life works. Chandler's the rule and Sebastian is very much the exception. So the exception was fun but now I have to either live in the real world or accept that I'm going to be single for the rest of my life. And stop calling him an insect."

"Well what about George?"

Kurt had to suppress a groan. What about George? Good question.

He'd waited most of Sunday for George to call and explain why he hadn't shown up to the party, part of him hoping for the call and part of him (the part who'd had George's ex's lips around his dick) dreading it. But George didn't know about that and calling to explain his absence shouldn't have been a big deal. Not wanting to hang out with the ex who'd screwed him over was a perfectly acceptable excuse. When most of the day had gone by with nothing, Kurt finally given in and, after practicing in the mirror until he was sure he could hit exactly the right note of curious but not desperate - and certainly not guilty about anything - he'd made the call. He hadn't even been surprised when the call went to voicemail.

So Kurt had felt okay about making a date with Chandler. He and George had only had one date, George wasn't rushing to explain his behavior, so he was pretty sure he was on safe moral ground there. But there was no way he could rationalize fooling around with the guy who'd screwed George over and pretty much ruined his life. But on the other hand, there was no way he could rationalize why George hadn't simply told him that he wasn't comfortable going to the party, or responded to his voicemail. The fact that he hadn't made Kurt suspect that the whole thing might have been more about Sebastian, all along, than it was ever about Kurt.

And he wasn't even going to try to rationalize the way he'd felt in Sebastian's arms. Kissing George had been exciting; kissing Sebastian was incendiary. George's hands had made electricity sing through his body but Sebastian's hands (and mouth and everything else) had set him on fire and made him feel sexual in a way he'd never experienced. The minute he'd gotten the green light Sebastian had treated him just like anyone else he slept with. Which Kurt thought probably should have made him feel anonymous and interchangeable, but really, in the moment, made him feel more like an object of desire than he ever had or ever expected to.

Kurt lasted until Tuesday before he called again, and this time George picked up. The conversation was stilted and awkward. Kurt knew he couldn't go out with George again after what had happened with Sebastian. At least, not without confessing everything, which he had no intention of doing, and George, for his part, seemed distant and distracted. Kurt could make out voices in the background, and music, and they ended the call quickly without making any further plans. Kurt was pretty sure that was the last he was going to hear from George Deming. He wanted to blame Sebastian for this, too, but found that he couldn't. He sort of felt like he was better off without George, just as Sebastian had implied.

But he couldn't tell Mercedes any of this so he simply said, "George and I went out once. Chandler's really nice and he likes me. I'm not in a position to blow off guys who like me."

"Kurt, please! You can do so much better! David said . . ." She trailed off into silence.

"What did David say?" Kurt prompted, not about to let such a blatant slip-up go unnoticed.

"Um, before the party, he said something about you being lucky you weren't at Dalton because half the gay guys there would be trying to get into your pants and the other half would be hating you for it." Her voice was flat, completely devoid of any self-satisfaction at laying that fact on him.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately.

"Nothing."

"Tell that to someone who hasn't been having sleepovers with you for the past three years. What happened with David? Did he say something about me and Sebastian?"

There was another moment of silence, then, "I really haven't talked to him since the party."

"Wait, what? Why didn't you tell me? Did you have a fight?" Kurt pressed, suddenly worried for his friend.

"You're on a date, Kurt," Mercedes sighed, "we can talk about this later."

"Don't even, Jones. You haven't talked to him since the party?"

"He called me Sunday morning to make sure I got home okay. He sounded a little embarrassed about drinking so much, but it seemed fine. Then . . . nothing."

"But I thought you guys talked every day?"

"We do . . . we did," Mercedes said quietly, "and I don't know what happened. I left him a message on Tuesday but he hasn't called me back. I don't know what to do, Kurt. I really like him and I thought he liked me too."

And of course that was the moment that a certain blonde head came bouncing across the court, craning left and right trying to spot Kurt.

"Oh, God, the insect's here." Kurt was gratified to hear Mercedes giggle a little at that. "Look, I'm calling you as soon as I'm done here and we're going to go get some ice cream or something and you can tell me everything."

"You have fun, Boo. Don't worry about me, I'm fine." A click from the other end of the phone told Kurt that Mercedes had hung up before he could argue. Giving a small sigh he pocketed his phone and waved an arm to attract Chandler's attention.

"Oh, God, I'm not late am I?" Chandler babbled breathlessly as he dropped into the chair opposite Kurt. "I never realized how big this mall is, although it might just have been that I was so excited; I get excited and then I don't pay attention to things and then I end up late."

"It's okay," Kurt said with a smile, "you're not late. I was early."

They smiled and chattered and ordered food. But the more Chandler gushed about Kurt's choice of clothing and the sales at the various stores he'd passed on the way to the food court the more Kurt realized that a shopping buddy was not what he was looking for in a boyfriend. Only in his life, he thought as he gave half his attention to Chandler's melodic prattling and the other half to his burrito, could he suddenly have three guys interested in him in the space of a week and have none of them turn out to be a suitable date. And the more Chandler went on the more Kurt found himself fantasizing about what it would be like to be sitting across from Sebastian, his mouth pitching insults while his eyes pitched promises about what would be happening once they were alone.

No! Kurt shoved the image of green eyes away and forced himself to focus on the blue ones magnified by oversized glasses.

"...so I thought Rainbow High would be the perfect song, but the man said they were completely out of the score, which I didn't believe for a second, I just think he had some deep-rooted issues with a boy singing a girl song..." he paused long enough that Kurt realized some kind of reply was expected, but he only got as far as raising his eyebrows and opening his mouth before Chandler went on, "...I'm sure you get that all the time too, right? I mean, obviously no one in this godforsaken town can possibly conceive of a gender-neutral presentation for a song like that. What I wanted to say was..."

Oh, God. Mercedes was right. Now Kurt was never going to be able to get the image of Jiminy Cricket out of his mind.

Chandler was still chirping merrily along when Kurt spotted them. Three jocks in McKinley letter jackets trolling around the now-crowded food court looking for a place to sit. He knew better than to stare directly at them, but from his peripheral vision he could tell that they weren't football players. One of them was definitely Rick "The Stick" Nelson, which meant they had to be from the hockey team. Which was worse than the football team. Finn and Puck and Sam had managed to keep the football players pretty much under control this year, but the hockey team didn't have any problems with using Kurt or anyone else they didn't like as a punching bag.

"We're done, right?" he asked Chandler as the guys moved closer. "We should probably hit those sales before everything good is gone."

Chandler didn't take the hint. "I know I'm the world's slowest eater, but my mother always says if you eat too fast you get fat and she's a nutritionist so I try to listen to her as much as I can, because, I have to keep the figure, you know?" His voice was high and loud enough to cut through the crowd noise and Kurt winced when one mulleted head turned in their direction then back to make a comment to his friends. "I mean, New York isn't Ohio, you know? There's competition in New York! I think it's important to give yourself every opportunity to..."

The other jocks all laughed at whatever Rick had said and they turned as one to face Kurt. His stomach sank with dread when recognition finally dawned on Rick's face and his smile became decidedly predatory.

"...because I know I can sing, I'm a performer, you know, and in a blind competition I'd win every time but image is so important in this business and it's not really fair but - "

"Well look what we have here!"

The short, stocky jock with black hair was right behind Chandler now, and the other two arranged themselves around the table, hemming them in and cutting them off from the people at neighboring tables. Chandler stopped mid-sentence and his face made another so-quick-it-was-comical transition from happy know-it-all to abject fear. At least it would have been comical, if the situation hadn't been so serious.

"Looks to me like Hummel finally got himself a girlfriend." Rick reached out to ruffle Chandler's hair and they all laughed when Chandler flinched.

"Leave him alone," Kurt said, and all four heads turned toward him.

"Oh, check it out, guys!" Rick said. "Hummel found somebody even girlier than him so he can be the man for a change. I guess we know who fucks who in this relationship!"

All four of them laughed again, and Kurt quickly weighed his options. Much as he hated it, they were outnumbered and the people at nearby tables seemed determined to ignore what was happening. The best plan was to try to placate them and get away as fast as possible. Somewhere a baby began to cry and Kurt blessed its perfect timing.

"Okay, you've had your fun, now why don't you stop scaring children and move along?" he attempted.

"There's just one problem with that." Rick took an exaggerated look around the room and his two goons followed suit. "There aren't any tables left. So…you're gonna give us yours."

"W-we're not done yet," Chandler stammered.

"I don't care, sweet cheeks. This is a table for four. And since there's three of us and only two of you, we get dibs."

"One and a half, really," one of the other jocks said. "The little one doesn't even count as a whole person."

Rick snorted and high-fived his friend.

Kurt was torn. He knew they should just get up and walk away, but the part of him that was about to graduate and move to New York, the part that had been up against a door with Sebastian-freaking-Smythe on his knees blowing him, that grown-up part of him was so completely fed up that he found himself contemplating some kind of fighting back.

The young mother with the crying baby rescued him. "Excuse me," she said, tapping one of the taller guys on the shoulder, "I'm done. You can have my table." She gestured to the four empty chairs nearby and then hurried away, holding the baby and pushing its stroller one-handed.

Rick pursed his lips and surveyed the empty table critically. "I don't know, guys, I still think I like this table better," he said to his cronies. "What do you think?"

"I think the queers need to move and give us our table," the short one sneered.

That was the last straw. "You have a table. We're not moving," Kurt said.

Rick glared at him. All around them other people were starting to get up and leave, and Kurt could see some of the employees at the various food stalls muttering to each other.

Rick seemed oblivious to all of this. "If I say you're moving, Hummel, you're moving." He grabbed the seat of Chandler's chair and pulled, tumbling Chandler to the floor with a squeal that quickly turned into a yelp of pain. Chandler scrambled to his feet, cradling his arm, and Kurt jumped up as well.

He really needed to just grab Chandler and run, but he could see one of the employees on the phone and he was willing to bet she was calling security. With back up on the way he suddenly felt much more confrontational.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" he practically yelled in Rick's face. "You really need to reconsider your choice of sport, a couple more pucks to the head and you'll be endangering your brilliant future as a bag boy at Walmart."

"What's wrong with me?" Rick asked, advancing menacingly. "Oh, I'm going to show you exactly what's wrong with me, Princess."

Crap. Kurt had apparently either underestimated the security response time or overestimated how much Rick liked to toy with his victims before he went in for the kill. Words were great when you had guards with batons to back you up, but they didn't much help against fists. The hockey player's hand whipped back so fast that all Kurt could think to do was close his eyes and throw up his hands to try to ward off the blow.

The blow never came. There was a crash, though, and Kurt's eyes flew open at the sound; he thought at first that the goons must have decided to use Chandler as a punching bag instead of him, but the sight that met his eyes was weirder than he could have ever imagined. Rick was sprawled on his back amid the remains of their meal and standing over him, perfectly calm and serene, was Sebastian Smythe.

And as Kurt and Rick both gaped at him Sebastian's lips quirked up in his trademark smirk. "Just for future reference," he told Rick with a smile, "I'm the only one who gets to call him Princess."

Sebastian winced slightly in the aftermath of the impact that his body hadn't quite been prepared for, flexing his hand and rolling his shoulders in an attempt to make the stabs of discomfort that were shooting up and down his left side go away. As the tingling slowly died down, he took a second to take stock of what he had just done; he had almost certainly aggravated an old lacrosse injury (caused, funnily enough, by performing a similar shoulder-check on the field – anybody who said that lacrosse was a non-contact sport had obviously never seen a game in action), he had willingly put himself in the firing line of three now incredibly angry, meat-head jocks and, judging by the shrieks of the cashier at the counter behind them, he was about to get frog-marched out of this place by some overzealous mall cops.

And it had been totally worth it.

He cocked his hip and made a show of lazily inspecting the knuckles of his left hand - the one that had sent Jock No. 1 flying - as said jock struggled to his feet angrily, brushing off the help of his cronies with a swipe of his arm. When he was standing again Sebastian gave a put-upon sigh, and placed his hand on his waist as if he were scolding a misbehaving child.

"No, no, no. You were supposed to stay down there, pet. You look much better on your back for me - or at least you would if I didn't have standards or, you know, eyes. Oh hey, Princess, how's it going?" He barely paused for breath as he seamlessly transitioned into casually greeting Kurt, who had come to stand next to him and, if the quick glance Sebastian had taken was any indication, was currently shooting daggers at him. Now that wasn't very nice, especially since Sebastian had gone out of his way to help out.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Sebastian? I'm not some damsel in distress, and I don't need rescuing, especially not by you," Kurt hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes trained on the three hockey players in front of them, who were still trying to put themselves back together after being caught so completely off guard.

"You might call it rescuing, I prefer to call it 'leveling the playing field,'" Sebastian replied casually, twisting his head to throw a smirk at Kurt before joining him in watching their common adversary. He paused for a second, then continued in a slightly quieter tone, "Come on Kurt, it was three against one, and don't try and tell me short-stuff over there was going to be of any help to you whatsoever. Call me crazy, but when a battle's thatone-sided it's just no fun."

It was supposed to be a light-hearted jibe about their own verbal sparring, where both parties gave as good as they got and Sebastian always walked away feeling exhilarated rather than beaten, no matter who had won the round, and he kind of expected some sarcastic comment in response. So, when all he heard was a soft sigh from beside him, something inside his chest twisted. He always knew he was lucky being at a school like Dalton, but sometimes he forgot just how lucky he was. Despite everything that had happened to him at that school, he had never had to deal with this day in and day out. It must be absolute hell.

Still, he thought to himself, at least there was something he could do about it now. Giving Kurt a small nudge with his shoulder he lowered his voice so that he was sure the boys in front of them couldn't hear him. "Come on, babe, don't tell me you don't want to play. Look how shiny our new toys are."

"So what is this now? A fairy convention?" Jock No. 2 cut in loudly, his bravado just that little bit forced after having seen his friend wiped clean off his feet moments earlier.

Sebastian gave a long, exaggerated sigh. "Ah but alas, I left my wand at home today! Never mind, I'm sure I can do just as much damage without it, wouldn't you agree, sweetheart?" He threw a coy wink at Jock No.1, who scowled and crossed his arms, not knowing how to react to such blatant flirting.

"Watch it, fag," he muttered sullenly, though it was clear his heart wasn't in it any more.

Seeing his enemies so clearly on the back foot seemed to decide something for Kurt, whose gaze turned steely and he straightened his shoulders just that little bit more. "Come on now, Sebastian, didn't your mother ever teach you it's not nice to tease poor, dumb animals?" he chided, his voice layered with sarcasm.

"Hummel, I'm warning you," Jock No. 1 began, cracking his knuckles to make himself seem more intimidating, but Kurt simply scoffed, his gaze derisive as he raised an eyebrow at the boy who spoke.

"Seriously Rick? I know it's hard to form those pesky things called sentences, but surely even you can manage to string together more than 4 words in a row." Kurt didn't wait for a response, simply turning slightly so that he was now talking to Sebastian rather than the jocks, "I think our toys are broken, do you think we can get a refund?"

"Right, that's it." Jock No. 3 growled, advancing on Kurt and Sebastian with menace in his eyes, and no, that really wouldn't do. Mall security would be here any minute and Sebastian really didn't want to be in the middle of an all-out brawl when they arrived. Holding his hands in front of him in the universal symbol for "stop" he spoke quickly. "So which of you boys owns the hummer parked outside?"

It was enough of a random question to make the stocky boy stop in his tracks, turning back towards his friends in confusion. Sebastian sighed, and spoke with over-exaggerated patience, "You know, big thing with wheels? Makes loud noises? Size of the engine inversely proportional to the size of your dick?" In all honesty Sebastian had no idea if the big yellow beast he had seen in the parking lot belonged to any of the boys in front of him, but he figured that given the walking stereotype this lot seemed to be it was a fairly safe bet that one of them at least would own a car vaguely matching that description.

Jock No. 2 frowned, obviously not sure if he had just been insulted or not. "What does it matter to you?" Bingo, there was the money shot.

Sebastian shrugged, crossing his arms. "Just making conversation, doll, no need to get your panties in a twist...what's the safety rating like on those things anyway?"

"Safety what-now? What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Jock No. 2 spluttered, obviously angry at Sebastian's lack of intimidation.

"Oh, but see, it all depends on who's driving," Kurt cut in, and Sebastian couldn't help grinning quietly to himself. He knew Kurt would catch on fast, but he hadn't quite anticipated just how on the same page they would be when faced with a common adversary.

"What do you mean, babe?" He asked innocently, sliding an arm around Kurt's waist and forcing himself to stifle a laugh at how uncomfortable the Neanderthals looked at the gesture. Sebastian felt Kurt arm wrap around his own waist in response, drawing him closer as Kurt stage whispered in Sebastian's ear, his eyes never leaving the trio in front of them.

"I can't tell you how many times we've had cars like that come into my Dad's garage with brakes are just absolutely shot. It seems to be a recurring problem when the owner is teenaged, homophobic, and always wearing a letterman jacket."

The three goons shared looks, each apparently sizing up the others' ages and apparel.

Sebastian drew away slightly, turning towards Kurt as if in shock "Wait, are you implying that a car is more likely to break down if the driver is a jackass?"

Kurt nodded sagely, expression completely deadpan as his eyes glittered with fire. "There does seem to be a direct correlation between levels of assholery and likelihood of crashing, yes."

Sebastian gave an exaggerated gasp, his hand flying to his mouth. "No!"

"Yes! And it can be so dangerous if the brakes go while you're out driving; one minute you're going along happily and the next you're wrapped around a tree. And it happens so fast, almost as if brakes have actually been cut."

"Alright that's enough!" Jock No. 1 interrupted angrily. "If you think you can threaten us and expect to get away with it..."

Sebastian held up his hands in mock-surprise. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, who said anything about threats?" He turned toward Kurt. "Did you hear any threats babe?"

Kurt shook his head, eyes wide, "No threats here, just a friendly observation, I just don't understand where this animosity is suddenly coming from, Seb, I really don't."

Sebastian shrugged and turned back towards the jocks, "I think you must be confused boys, though I guess that's nothing new, right?"

Jock No. 1 stood stunned for a long moment, before throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. "Fuck this shit. Come on guys, let's go." The three boys stalked away, not even bothering to shoulder-check either Kurt or Sebastian as they walked past. When they were a couple of feet away Jock No. 3 turned around to yell, "This isn't over, Hummel."

Kurt gave a cheery wave. "Looking forward to it, Bateman, looking forward to it."

The two of them watched as the trio hurried off, not moving until they had disappeared into the distance. Sebastian could feel the blood thrumming through his veins and his whole body was practically humming with energy. God that had felt good, to join forces with someone who could match Sebastian intellectually and really rip into a common enemy (who, honestly, deserved far worse than they had gotten). After a long moment he turned to see Kurt watching him, a slightly shy smile etched across his face. Suddenly embarrassed Sebastian gave a small cough. "You were pretty good just then, Hummel."

Kurt's smile grew just that tiny bit broader. "You weren't so bad yourself, Smythe."

"Are you freaking kidding me?!" A shrill voice pitched up from behind them, and Sebastian turned with a start to see Chandler sitting at a nearby table with a bag of ice pressed to his wrist and fuck, he had forgotten that the other boy was even there, had forgotten that he had basically just gate-crashed Kurt's date. It seemed that Kurt's date didn't seem to mind too much, however. The short boy bounced in his seat, eyes bright as he waved his uninjured hand animatedly. "That was the best thing I've ever seen!"

Sebastian grinned and gave a little bow, waggling his eyebrows at Kurt who had to stifle a giggle behind his hand. His buoyant mood was slightly dampened, however, when he straightened up and caught sight of two uniformed men heading towards them. Crap, he had totally forgotten about security.

"Excuse me boys," he muttered quietly before sauntering over to the Sbarro cashier, who had been closest to the action, and who had no doubt been the one to call for reinforcements. It only took a few well chosen words, and an 'accidental' brushing of his fingers over her forearm (never let it be said that Sebastian Smythe didn't know how to turn on the charm when needed) for him to be reasonably confident that the girl would be able to placate the mall cops enough for them not to be troubled. With a final wink, which had the poor girl obviously swooning, he turned and walked back towards Kurt and Chandler, where the former was watching Sebastian with clear amusement in his eyes.

"Sebastian Smythe flirting his way to freedom yet again. Nothing like using your body to get ahead, isn't that right?" Kurt's tone was light, almost carefree, but Sebastian couldn't miss the underlying edge to Kurt's words. It was obvious in the way the boy held himself, shoulders squared to Sebastian in a way that was almost confrontational, in the way his voice hitched ever so slightly in anticipation at the end. This was a silent request from Kurt, his actions voicing what his words could clearly never say.

Don't go treating me any differently because of what you just saw, don't go easy on me, I don't want that, I've never wanted that.

And of course, Sebastian wasn't about to disappoint, not after the truly spectacular back-and-forth the two of them had just engaged in. He had known before today that Kurt could more than hold his own, and Kurt's reaction just now had only reinforced that sentiment. Plus, Sebastian was pretty sure Kurt craved the mental exercise as much as he did, he needed this just as much as Sebastian, he could just tell. Giving a soft sigh he turned to Kurt, "Yup, it's an important life skill. But don't worry Princess, as soon as you lose that newborn kitten look I'm sure you'll pick it up fast."

"Newborn kitten, huh? That's funny, I didn't know you had a thing for animals." Kurt's eyes glittered with excited anticipation, the teases and jabs flowing easily between them and honestly, the difference between their banter and the harsh taunts of the jocks earlier couldn't have been in starker contrast.

Sebastian snorted, "Looks like we're on the same page on that count, if Jiminy Cricket over here is anything to go by." He nodded his head towards the shorter boy, who was still watching their interaction with amusement, and oh yes, he was still crashing their date wasn't he? He should probably do something about that.

"Speaking of which, I should probably be heading out. I'm slightly worried if I hang around you two flamers much longer I might actually catch on fire." Sebastian gave a satirical salute and spun around, heading off before either of the other boys had a chance to respond, forcing himself to resist the urge to look back over his shoulder. His work here was done, there was no point in him hanging around - even if joining forces with Kurt had made him feel more alive than he had in years.

He had just made it to the parking lot when he heard rapid footfall behind him, and he frowned slightly as Chandler's perfectly styled hair popped into view almost under his nose. The shorter boy fell into step next to him as they both walked between the rows of parked cars.

"Bailed on your date so soon, short-stuff?" He asked with just a hint of disapproval in his voice, something in his gut rebelling at the thought of Kurt being jilted like that, but Chandler simply replied with a short laugh.

"Oh no, it was just time to call it a day, you know? I mean Kurt's lovely, more than lovely, he's an absolute angel, but he's clearly interested in somebody else, and if I spend much more time around him I'm going to fall completely head-over-heels, and my Mom always says not to give your heart to somebody who can't give theirs in return..."

Sebastian frowned, only half listening to the rest of Chandler's monologue. So Kurt was clearly still hung up on George then. Damn. He had to admit, he hadn't exactly been happy when he saw Kurt ask for Chandler's number, but in the grand scheme of things surely it was better if Kurt was with him, rather than him right? Holding up a hand to cut off the boy mid-flow, he stopped walking so that he could turn and face Chandler fully, staring him down in what he hoped properly conveyed his seriousness.

"Look Jiminy, if you like Kurt then you shouldn't let George stand in your way. You're ten times the man that guy is, and Kurt probably just needs a little nudge to see that, okay?" It was a pretty good speech, if he did say so himself, and Sebastian threw his most dazzling smile at Chandler, ruthlessly squashing down the angry gremlin in his stomach that was protesting at Sebastian facilitating Kurt hooking up with anybody who wasn't him.

Instead of being overawed by Sebastian's incredible motivational speech, however, Chandler frowned slightly, looking confused as he replied, "Who's George?"

Sebastian opened and closed his mouth a few times, not knowing quite how to respond. So maybe Kurt hadn't exactly referenced George by name, but surely Chandler could make the inference by himself, surely he wasn't that stupid? He raised an eyebrow at Chandler, who simply raised one back, smiling slightly as if he knew something Sebastian didn't. Ah screw it, he had tried. The kid was on his own now. "You know what, never mind," he replied with a small huff, making a start towards his car once again, hoping he would be left in peace this time.

"So...are you single?" The words caught Sebastian completely off guard, and when he spun round towards Chandler for a second time he was pretty sure his mouth was completely open in shock.

"I- um- okay look, darling. You're sweet and all, but I'm afraid you're really not my type so..." he trailed off slowly as Chandler waved him down impatiently.

"Yes, yes, okay, I know that already, I may be from Lima but I'm not completely naive, geez. No, I was just trying to come up with some sort of explanation as to why you and Kurt aren't together, since it's fairly obvious that he's your type at least."

"Kurt?" Sebastian parroted back dumbly, his brain not quite on board yet with the conversation that they somehow seemed to have fallen into.

"Yes. Kurt. You know, the guy you've been engaging in the hottest verbal foreplay with for the better part of the last hour - that Kurt? Don't tell me you don't see what's going on here," Chandler replied, his mouth twitching into a smile as he took in Sebastian's completely nonplused expression.

"Oh. Oh." Chandler laughed a high, excitable laugh, clapping his hands together eagerly. "Oh my god, you two are absolutely adorable."

Sebastian sighed, massaging his temple with his first two fingers. This was just too much. "I honestly have no idea what you're talking about, short-stuff."

Chandler simply gave him a knowing look, patting him on the shoulder sympathetically. "You keep telling yourself that, you keep telling yourself that." With one final wave Chandler disappeared into a parallel row of cars, leaving Sebastian alone with his thoughts, which had suddenly gotten very confusing.