They're a regular occurrence now, these nights at the bar with his work friends. Or, rather, his colleagues. He wouldn't really call them his friends.
Except maybe Sebastian. Sebastian is his friend now, he thinks.
They're good for him. He feels good when he's there, it's like he can step away from real life for a few hours, like he can finally breathe again, escape the crushing weight of everything even if only for a short time.
It's a different bar every time; they like to change things up, try something new. It's a big city, there are so many places to go. Tonight they're at another new place, some bar with a few pool tables, and Kurt has found himself paired with Sebastian, as he so often is, as they play a game against two of their coworkers.
Turns out Sebastian is surprisingly good at billiards.
And, conversely, it turns out Kurt is very much not.
He's got the rules down, and he understands what he should be doing, but every time he hits the cue ball it seems to go off in the wrong direction. He's a little drunk and he's getting flustered, which probably isn't helping the situation, but still, why is this so fucking hard?
"Here, let me show you this time," Sebastian says, coming up behind Kurt as he lines up his next shot. "Put your hand like this," he continues, taking Kurt's hand on the table and positioning it so the pool cue rests along his thumb and over his fingers, "and then it's easier to line it up. You want to connect right in the center here, otherwise it's going to shoot off to the side."
Sebastian is crowding him now, keeping one hand on Kurt's on the table, the other finding his hand on the cue and guiding his arm, chest brushing against Kurt's back, and it feels almost intimate, Sebastian's breath so close to Kurt's ear.
"Now try," Sebastian says, not stepping away, keeping his hands carefully in place as a guide.
Kurt takes a breath, tries to steady himself, follows the motions Sebastian just worked him through and connects with the cue ball, sends it rolling across the table where it connects with the 6 he'd been aiming for and knocks it into the pocket.
A smile breaks out across his face and he straightens up, turns to Sebastian and pulls him into a hug before he really registers what he's doing.
"There you go," Sebastian says easily, chuckles a little, gives a light squeeze as he hugs back.
Sebastian gives good hugs, Kurt thinks. His arms feel strong and safe, and he's the perfect height for Kurt to hook his chin over his shoulder and nuzzle into his neck just a little.
He wonders if this is how Blaine feels hugging him.
Blaine.
He pulls away from the hug, a little awkwardly. "Thanks," he says, offers a half-smile as he feels his cheeks colouring, straightens out his shirt a little.
They're just friends, nothing about that was inappropriate, but… something about it felt wrong. Or, well, it felt right, really, but that's why it felt wrong. Because nothing has felt that right with Blaine since everything happened, but this isn't Blaine, this is Sebastian.
It must be the alcohol. He should have stopped at the last drink, it's making his brain fuzzy, making him see and feel things that aren't there.
That's all it is. It's nothing. They're just friends.