After his conversation with the Dean, Sebastian heads to his room, eager to get to Kurt's house and start his weekend.
But Hunter has other plans for Sebastian …
So, this comes right after what has actually been the last chapter written of this series so far, which is "A Dalton Boy in the Hot Seat". There's a bunch of individual scenes that come before this, but since this is actual story line stuff, I figured I would post this first and fill in later. If anything seems confusing (though it really shouldn't) let me know 3 Minor, momentary mention of Blaine, but no Blaine wank. Also warning for being tied down, blindfolded, and gagged in a non-consensual way.
As it turns out, Sebastian doesn't get time to think of how he's going to get back at Hunter. Hunter walks into Sebastian's bedroom seconds after Sebastian, catching the door before it swings shut. Sebastian has no idea where in the hell he came from. He wasn't following him back from the Dean's office. But like Elliott down at Kurt's club, Hunter has a tendency to pop up, as if in a puff of smoke, whenever's least convenient. Sebastian wishes he wouldn't, that he would learn a thing or two about "personal boundaries". Hunter seems to love invading Sebastian's space. Sebastian didn't have a name for the fact that it bothered him before Kurt came along. Sebastian always thought that it was a "territorial thing". They do go to an all-boy's school. The dorms in particular are rife with testosterone. But Sebastian has begun to realize that he regards his dorm room as his "safe space". It's his private sanctum to hide out and unwind at the end of the school day. Hunter shouldn't be in Sebastian's room without permission.
Sebastian wouldn't give permission to him if asked, which is probably why Hunter doesn't to begin with.
Sebastian has no time for Hunter now. After his meeting with the Dean, he's running late. He has to grab his things and get to Kurt's before curfew. Luckily, he keeps most of his downtime clothes at Kurt's anyway (even though he spends most of his time naked). He also has a toothbrush there. Kurt bought it for him. It's child size and has pictures of Transformers on it, but it does the job. Kurt requires that Sebastian borrow his personal toiletries (which Sebastian has taken to stocking in his own bathroom at Dalton as well) so that they don't end up wearing scents that clash. But that rule Sebastian knows is another way Kurt stakes his claim. Kurt's scent is a marker, just like the brand and the cutting and the bite marks. There's really no need for Sebastian to pack too much else other than his homework.
But seeing as he doesn't exactly want Hunter tailing him to his car, or worse, following Sebastian to Kurt's house, Sebastian decides to stall.
"You lost, Hunter?" he asks, slipping off his blazer. It's not like he won't be wearing it to Kurt's. He's just not keen on getting blood on it when he pops Hunter in the nose.
Sebastian's not planning on getting into a fight, but he figures that's next on Hunter's playlist, so he best be prepared. Besides, even if it's not part of Hunter's itinerary, he has it coming.
"Nope," Hunter says, shutting his door for him. "I knew you probably wouldn't return to class and I wanted to be the first person to find out what the Dean did to you."
Sebastian unbuttons his dress shirt and takes that off, too, completely forgetting the marks he's exposing, whose "hypothetical existence" got him sent to the office in the first place. He figures that Hunter has someone at his beck and call - a teacher, or maybe even the Assistant Dean, ready to expose Sebastian with a cell phone photo or a phone call, but it still wouldn't matter. And that's the thing that frustrates Sebastian more than anything. These bullshit moves by Hunter are just roadblocks. Hunter can't really touch Sebastian. When is he going to get that through his thick, badly coiffed skull?
"Nothing, Hunter," Sebastian says with an aggravated laugh. "The Dean … did ... nothing to me. Don't you get it? He can't do anything to me and you can't do anything to me! You can call every teacher here at Dalton, the police, and the National Guard! You … cannot … touch ... me! I'm not doing anything wrong!"
"That's what you think," Hunter says with that smug little pinch of a grin that makes Sebastian want to slug him more than ever.
"Why do you care so much anyway? Huh?" Sebastian asks, getting closer to Hunter than he should considering how desperately he'd love to lay him flat. "You haven't explained what this vendetta is all about. You and I aren't friends. We never really have been. We've barely been teammates. Why do you care what I do or who I do it with? In a few months, we'll never see one another again!"
"What do you really think is going on here?" Hunter asks, that grin of his slipping, not out of fear or defeat, but out of rage. A rage that seems to come on suddenly and for no reason. But whatever has put it there has been simmering for some time; Sebastian just hasn't been around campus enough lately to realize it.
"I don't know," Sebastian snaps. "You won't tell me!"
"You don't seem to get the fact that there's a certain … order to things," Hunter starts. Sebastian rolls his eyes. This is playing out a little too much like the big reveal in a James Bond movie for his taste. The bad Bond movies. The ones with Pierce Brosnan in them. "I understand that order. My father understands that order. Your father understands that order. Every boy that attends Dalton seems to understand that order. The only person not getting the memo here is you."
"Oh, God," Sebastian groans. Yes, he wants to know what's going on in Hunter's deluded head, but only so he can snuff it. He doesn't need a monologue. "Can you skip to the end where you tell me why so I can tell you to fuck off and be done with you?"
"Your father and my father went to Dalton together. Did you know that?"
"Yes, I knew that," Sebastian says, watching Hunter take a leisurely slow lap around his room. "Everyone's father went to Dalton with everyone else's father. We're all one big incestuous family."
Actually, Sebastian didn't know that. He just doesn't want Hunter to think he had one up on him.
"The way my father tells it, your father was the big man on campus here at Dalton. He was captain of the lacrosse team, captain of the debate team, valedictorian, etc., etc. My father deserved it, but your father got it …"
Hunter's words make Sebastian shiver slightly, like a slimy creature slithering up his spine. He's too calm when he talks, too practiced at this. Hunter's thought this speech through one too many times. But why? It doesn't make sense?
"And what does this have to do with me?" Sebastian asks, eyes flicking toward the door. It's there, closed but unlocked, with Hunter on the opposite end of the room and Sebastian a step away from it. He could just take that step, turn the knob, and leave … couldn't he?
He suddenly gets the prickly feeling that he can't.
"When I started attending Dalton, my father told me that you would be here. That you were a legacy. That the administration would probably hand everything to you like they did for your father. He told me not to let that happen, that you Smythe men needed to learn your place. You can't just get everything you want. But it didn't matter what I did. You got everything anyway. You have everything, you're actively throwing it away, except they'll still let you have it. You're captain of the lacrosse team. You're co-captain of the debate team. I tried to teach you a lesson. I tried to make everyone see you for what you were, and it backfired on me." Hunter's eyes drift to the half-packed bag sitting open on Sebastian's bed. "It's still backfiring …"
Sebastian's mind bounces back and forth between going to Kurt's, his unlocked door, what Hunter's saying, and lesson? What lesson? What the hell's he talking about? Is this about Jamie coming back to Dalton? Is this about Sebastian getting sent to the Dean? That was the first time in a while. It's not like he's racking them up.
No, Sebastian realizes, eyes widening slowly. This is something else. Something more personal.
"This is about Kurt, isn't it?" Sebastian asks, properly angry for the first time. "You and the other guys sent me to that club … but you never had any intention of showing up, did you? It was a set-up."
"You needed to be shoved down a few pegs." Hunter smirks. "And being caught at that freak show club would have done that." Then Hunter's smirk turns sour. "We never thought you'd get inside. I never thought …"
"What? You were going to have someone photograph me outside or something? Show it to the Dean? Send it to my parents? Print it in the school paper? The yearbook?" Door forgotten, Sebastian storms the remaining steps over to Hunter. "Well, it didn't work, did it?" Sebastian sneers. "In fact, because of your little trick, I ended up with one of the best things in my life. So, thank you. Thank you and your messed up existence for introducing me to the most wonderful man I've ever met. Now that we've got that clear, you can slink off to your room and leave me alone. You lost, Hunter. Get over it. High school isn't life. I have a life. And I've got things I've got to do."
Sebastian glares at Hunter, waiting for him to turn tail and go, but Hunter grins as if those words out of Sebastian's mouth were exactly what he had been waiting to hear. "No, no, no, Sebastian. I'm sorry. But it's not that easy."
Sebastian hears the door open behind him, several sets of footsteps rushing in. He doesn't know if they were waiting for some sort of cue or if they just happened along at that moment, but their timing is impeccable. Impressive, actually. Sebastian doesn't see who Hunter has acting the heavy before a pillowcase is thrown over his head and, on top of that, a gag fitted over his mouth. He struggles against it, kicks out and punches, sucks in deep breaths, trying to scream. But the boys who grab his flailing limbs are too strong and too fast. They have to be on the lacrosse team, Sebastian realizes. The strongest boys on campus are on that team.
Which means the guys tying him down to his wooden desk chair are boys that he knows. Boys he considers teammates.
Boys he considered friends.
He screams as best he can with the gag in his mouth, but it doesn't do any good. The sound is too muffled, he can't form an intelligible word. And no one outside his room can probably hear him.
Even if they could, is there anyone he knows not in on this?
"Oh, don't fight so much," Hunter says. "I figure you'd be used to this by now."
Sebastian knows what he's implying, but this is nothing like what he does with Kurt. This isn't consensual. This is violence. There is no safeword, safe sound, or safe gesture that will make this stop.
Beneath his pillowcase with the gag over his mouth, it's becoming hard for him to breathe.
"And as for that wonderful man you were just thanking me for, I don't think you're going to have him much longer." Sebastian feels a hand reach into his pocket and grab his phone. He can only guess what Hunter's planning. Kurt. He's going to fuck up Sebastian's relationship with Kurt. He's going to call him or send him a text and say something awful, disrespect him, make it seem like it's from Sebastian. Suddenly, Sebastian's not angry anymore. He's scared. Scared to death, his heart pounding, his need to break free so urgent it becomes a knot in his head, rolling tight, ready to explode his brain. All of a sudden, Sebastian can't think straight. He starts to panic. "So now, you're where you're supposed to be, down at square one. And once you let that sink in, then we'll talk about plans for the remainder of the year. Until then, you can just sit here …" Hunter gives Sebastian a few condescending slaps to the face "… and think about what you've done."
"Hunter!" Sebastian tries to scream, but he can't get the word out. His lips pulled open tight, the fabric at the very corners of his mouth chafe his skin, causing a burn. He's felt this before, but not like this. He's never felt trapped like this, helpless like this.
He's never felt beaten like this.
"Here," Sebastian hears Hunter say to one of the boys behind him, "take this and send that freak a message."
"W-what do you want me to say?" It's Jeff's voice. Fuck! Sebastian always considered Jeff one of his better friends. But even if he weren't, Sebastian couldn't imagine him, or any of the Warblers, agreeing to do something like this. The Warblers have always been Dalton Academy's ambassadors to the public, preaching Dalton's zero-tolerance bullying policy at Open Houses and during school tours. But, obviously, none of them believed in it.
Apparently, Sebastian is dumber than he thought.
Though considering some of the shit Sebastian has pulled, is he really in a position to judge?
"I don't care," Hunter says. "Be creative. You know what I want."
"Yeah," Jeff says. In his defense, he sounds uneasy about this task being put in his hands. "I know what you want."
Sebastian stops fighting. If someone like Jeff, who's never so much as called anyone a cruel name, could be on Hunter's side in all this, Sebastian doesn't have any hope of finding help. He retreats. He shuts his eyes, tries to withdraw.
Tries to wait this out, come up with a plan … and not completely split apart when Kurt breaks up with him.
Kurt looks at his phone. Scowls at it. He's about to throw the fucking thing across the room just to watch it shatter. So what if it's a $700 phone? He's pissed off! It's 8:16. His sub was supposed to be there by six tonight. They had plans, plans that they have every weekend, without fail, so it's not like Sebastian didn't know. Punctuality is one of five tenets that Kurt demands Sebastian strictly adhere to, but he's late. Over two hours late. Not to mention the fact that the thirteen calls Kurt has made to Sebastian's phone have gone unanswered.
The motherfucker had better be lying in a ditch, bleeding out of every orifice, if he wants to find himself in Kurt's good graces again.
Kurt strangles the phone in his hand, going through his text messages one by one to see if he missed anything. Aside from one message he hasn't read yet from a number he doesn't recognize, there's nothing. He decides to read that one, seeing as he has nothing the fuck better to do. He expects it to be phishing, some text scam from a "prince" out in Kenya who needs money, but just as he's about to select it, a second new text comes in. Kurt hates the way his eyes light up when he sees Sebastian's number. Was Kurt really considering forgiving him after this bullshit? Was he going to let this slide? This is a direct violation of their contract together, something that Kurt has never taken lightly. He's dropped subs completely for smaller violations than this. But his heart races nonetheless every second he doesn't read it.
Fuck it. He'll see what the little shit has to say and then hate himself later for whatever leniency he grants.
Kurt scans the message, and his racing heart seizes to a halt. He reads it again and again, becoming more and more furious with every repeat. He reads it till he has it memorized and then decides enough is enough.
"Prick," he mutters, reaching for his pack of cloves, strangling that too once it's within reach. "Motherfucking prick!"
He dials the first number in his contacts. The phone only rings once before someone picks up. In the background, Kurt hears yelling, music, the chaotic atmosphere of his club providing him the calm he desperately needs.
"Yello."
"Elliott? I'm gonna meet you at the club. I need you now."
Sebastian has no clear timeline for anything that happened after the pillowcase was put over his head and the gag in his mouth. He'd heard shouting, arguments, reprimands, doors slamming, and muttered apologies. From what he could discern, Hunter became angry with Jeff because Jeff wasn't texting Kurt fast enough, so he decided to do the dirty deed himself. That broke Sebastian's heart. At least with Jeff sending the message, it might not have been too vicious and insulting.
Sebastian doesn't know what Hunter ended up texting to Kurt, but knowing Hunter, it has the potential of making Kurt despise Sebastian for the rest of his life.
Sebastian had heard his phone ringing from outside his dorm room. He knew who was calling because he'd assigned Kurt a special ring song – "Muse" by O.C.A.D. But Sebastian's phone stopped ringing over, what he assumes was, an hour ago. No more calls. No text alerts. Nothing. Total silence. They did it. They found the one thing that would ruin him, the one thing that Sebastian thought was untouchable, and stole it from him.
Sebastian remembers the contract he signed with Kurt. The first items Kurt made mention of had to do with punctuality. Countless nights Sebastian broke speed limits to make it to Kurt's door on time. Even with an explanation, Sebastian isn't sure that Kurt will forgive him. Kurt isn't a big fan of drama, and he isn't a fan of Dalton. He might decide that this high school bull crap is beneath him and let Sebastian go for good.
Elliott is right. Kurt doesn't need a boy. He needs a man. A real man, not a technical one. Sebastian can throw his legal age in people's faces all he wants, but he's still a teenager.
A grown man wouldn't be in this situation.
Kurt could decide that Sebastian is more trouble than he's worth. Sebastian might do the same if the shoe were on the other foot.
But not with Kurt. If their roles were reversed, Sebastian wouldn't leave. Because Sebastian cares about Kurt. He loves Kurt. He knows that now. Kurt is the one thing in Sebastian's life that he found for himself, the one thing he put more sincere effort into than anything. Hunter was partially right. There have been times when Sebastian felt things were handed to him. Not grades. He earned those, but they weren't difficult for him to get. Not really. Not the way they were for other students. But solos. Positions of authority. Respect. Privileges. Those were sometimes handed to him the second people heard his last name. Sebastian sort of expected that. It neither surprised nor appalled him. It was like a game. In his father's world and at Dalton, that's how games were played.
That's one of the reasons why Sebastian has no problem taking or leaving them.
But what he has with Kurt, Sebastian had to work for that. He had to learn to find his submissive self, learn to embrace it. He had to work to get through Kurt's shell, had to work to make Kurt want him the way he did. He earned that on his knees, on his back, with his mouth open and his heart on his sleeve. He earned that on his own, and these fucktards took all that away from him without a thought. Without a care.
They broke him, and they don't care that they've done it.
They were never his friends. In fact, they may have hated him all along, looking for an excuse to enact revenge, and jumped at this chance when Hunter offered it. Well, whatever they wanted, Sebastian would have given it to them gladly if he knew this would be the price for keeping it. He would have handed over his leadership, his academic standing, and all the other privileges he had at Dalton if it meant not losing Kurt.
But why think about that now? What was the point? What's done is done.
Underneath the pillowcase in his quiet room, he's nothing, because he's lost the one thing that matters. The one thing he earned.
The person who looked out for him.
The person Sebastian thought could love him.
"Man, how long are we gonna sit here?" Sebastian hears someone ask. He's not too sure, but he thinks the kid in question is on the sophomore lacrosse team. He doesn't know all of the guys on the freshmen and sophomore teams, but he didn't think any of them had a beef with him. "It's Friday night, and we've been in here for over five hours!"
Five hours!? Sebastian's brain feels fuzzy, drifting between a want to find subspace and a need to stay cognizant, but he does the math in his head. That means it's ten o'clock!
"Quit whining," a second voice from the same team answers. "We do what Hunter says and we're the major players next year when they graduate, remember? I think a couple of hours babysitting a guy with a pillowcase over his head is worth first string on the Varsity team, don't you?"
"I don't know," the first boy says. "How can we even be sure that Hunter will keep his promise? Isn't Sebastian supposed to be, like, one of his inner circle? Do you want to end up like him next year? Besides, Sebastian's captain of the Varsity team. Not Hunter. If you ask me, I think we may have seriously screwed the pooch."
"You heard what Hunter and the other guys said. Smythe's dad bought team captain for him. Of course, Hunter's going to keep his promise. Just don't give him any reason to hate you and-what's that?"
"What?"
"Shh! Listen."
The boys go quiet – completely quiet - until Sebastian almost thinks they've left, evaporated into thin air since he doesn't hear the door open or shut. Sebastian doesn't hear anything at first, the sound of his own breathing loud inside the hot confines of the pillowcase, his head spinning from too much time spent with too little oxygen. But the longer the boys go without talking, the sharper everything becomes, and then finally he hears it - the click-click-click of a familiar pair of high-heeled boots sauntering down the hallway, and everything from his heart to his head lightens. Even if Kurt came down there to rip Sebastian a new one, at least he came. He'll see for himself what held Sebastian up. He'll help Sebastian out of this mess, and then Sebastian will do everything and anything in his power to convince Kurt to take him back. He'll polish every pair of boots Kurt owns with his tongue, he'll clean his toilets with his bare hands, he'll sleep hung up on the closet door with a hook up his ass.
Anything Kurt wants.
Anything.
Sebastian still can't speak, still can't scream. His lips won't move around the gag, his mouth insanely dry, all the moisture in his body gone towards keeping the pillowcase uncomfortably moist, but he doesn't have to say a word. His prayers have been answered by the only God that Sebastian recognizes.
Kurt.
When the text from Sebastian's number came in, Kurt had to admit, he was furious, but he knew it wasn't from Sebastian. It didn't sound like Sebastian – even if it had been written by a self-centered prick. But Kurt didn't know what was going on. He didn't need the text from that unknown number to get him to Dalton, but it did help him to prepare:
I hope this is Kurt, and if it is, I hope you'll read this. You don't know me. My name is Jeff, and I'm a friend of Sebastian's. I don't know if he's ever told you about a kid at our school named Hunter, but long story short, Hunter doesn't like Sebastian. He's been planning on doing something to hurt Sebastian for a while. He's trying to make him pay for hooking up with you. I know this is going to sound like a prank, but please believe me. Hunter has Sebastian tied to a chair in his dorm room. I don't know what he's going to do to him, but I don't think he can breathe all that well. Even as I send this to you, I'm afraid he might have blacked out. If you care about him at all, please come down here and help him out right away. I've tried calling the Dean of Students, but I can't get a hold of him, and the cops think this is a hoax. I don't know what else to do. Sebastian's a good guy. I don't want to see him get hurt.
There was a chance that this Jeff guy was pulling Kurt's chain, or leading him into some sort of trap, but Kurt wouldn't know anything for certain until he went down to Dalton and checked things out for himself.
So that's what he did.
Dalton. He went back to fucking Dalton … again.
When Kurt swore to himself he'd never go back to Dalton, he probably should have known that what he actually meant was, "Give it a few years and you'll be back there every God damned day."
Kurt also swore to himself that he wasn't going to get angry, that he was going to keep his cool no matter what he saw when he got there. But that promise dissolves into the ether the second he walks into the junior/senior dorms, the hallways strangely quiet for ten-o-seven on a Friday evening. There's practically no one walking around, no music playing (which he remembered doing the second seven o'clock rolled around and noise restrictions lifted). It's as if whatever's been going on here this evening, the whole dorm is in on it, or knows about it, and that makes Kurt want to scream.
Because if Jeff's right, this douchebag Hunter has been holding his preppy hostage in his bedroom for the past five hours and everybody knows about it.
And only one person has tried to help him.
Kurt turns down the first stretch of hallway in the labyrinth that leads to the senior wing, feeling eyes follow him every step of the way. He curbs his urge to turn to one partially open door and hiss … or maybe just kick the fucker in out of spite.
He turns one more corner and bristles beneath his jacket when he sees his sub's door literally under guard. Where the fuck was he right now? Wasn't Dalton Academy all about no bullying and that bullshit? Nice to see that nothing changes, that Dalton Academy was still peddling lies about "safe spaces" to another generation of kids. Kurt, on the other hand, has devoted a good portion of his life to "safe spaces", the protecting of and respecting of. And the straights have the nerve to call him a deviant.
At least he knows how to keep his word.
Kurt struts down the hallway towards Sebastian's room, holding himself in check when the two asshats guarding the door don't automatically part ways like the Red Sea. The tall-ish boy with the square jaw, Neanderthal brow, and dark hair, Kurt doesn't recognize, but the one standing beside him with the boyish face, towhead, and quivering lower lip has to be Jamie. Sebastian had pointed this boy out to Kurt once a while ago during another impromptu visit.
He's much less appealing close up, and that's saying something about a boy who looks like he should be dressed in a diaper and slapped onto the label of a Coppertone bottle.
How Sebastian could ever put his dick in that, Kurt will never understand.
"Good evening, assholes," Kurt says, loud enough to wake the whole hall if he thought anyone was asleep. Nope. Not with this shit going down.
"What are you doing here?" Jamie asks, trying his hardest not to look too intimidated by the man standing in front of him, dressed in crisp, black jeans; a black button down shirt; a black leather jacket; and a collar around his neck. It's a dog collar, Jamie realizes, lined with thick, metal spikes; one of those collars people put on dangerous breeds, like Rottweilers and pit bulls. Jamie has never seen Kurt Hummel up close before. He fights to keep his eyes locked on the man's face when they die to glance down his body. But even without the onceover, Jamie can see the piercings, the tattoos, the streaks of unnatural color in his hair. He didn't know this was Sebastian's type, but Jamie can definitely see the appeal, what with the way those jeans hug every inch of him, and his shirt, straining against muscle to remain buttoned.
"You boys have something of mine," Kurt says, pointing to the door behind them that Kurt's itching to get to.
"And so what if we do?" Thad asks, crossing his arms over his chest. "What are you going to do about it? There's the two of us out here, two more boys inside, and about nine others in their rooms keeping a watch on this room. You can't take us all."
Kurt sighs dramatically hard. "What world do you live in, fuckwad? Apparently not the real one. Do you seriously think I came down here to beat you down, break your collective necks, and get my ass thrown in jail?" Kurt huffs. "You guys aren't worth chipping my nail polish."
Kurt glances down subconsciously at his freshly polished nails. And not just any nail polish. Nail polish Sebastian bought for him. Nail polish Sebastian applied while he knelt naked at Kurt's feet with a humbler snapped around his scrotum.
Because Sebastian belongs to Kurt, and no one else.
"So, what?" Thad chuckles. Jamie stands dumb beside him, too shocked to say anything. "You're just going to stand there and stare at us menacingly?"
"You know, for going to an exclusive school like Dalton, with its high academic standards and all, you guys have the combined intelligence of a barrel cactus." Kurt reaches inside his jacket and pulls out pages he printed at home, stapled in the corner and folded in half. "Section 13, subsection 3 of the Dalton Academy Code of Conduct." He tosses the pages in Jamie's face, causing the boy to flinch in an attempt to catch them. "Now here's the million dollar question, haircut – what does that cover?"
The two boys look at one another blankly, and Kurt rolls his eyes.
"Hazing," Kurt replies. "Which, by the way, is an offense punishable by immediate and permanent expulsion." Kurt takes a step forward, leaning close to Jamie specifically, whose eyes have gone wide with fear at hearing the e-word. "Now," Kurt says in a low but clearly threatening tone, "step away from this God damned fucking door."
Jamie gulps, preparing to step aside, but Thad grabs the shoulder of his blazer and keeps him from bolting.
"No one's going to believe you, freak. It's all of us, and then you."
"Oh, it's not just me, I assure you."
Thad and Jamie look left and right down the hallway, waiting for Kurt's mysterious someone else to show. Kurt doesn't look, but he checks his cell phone for messages, tapping the right toe of his boot but otherwise nonplussed.
"So" – Thad shrugs – "where are they?"
"Just … just give them a minute," Kurt says, putting a hand up. "I got here first. It might take them a little while."
Only a few more seconds of awkward silence passes before more sets of footsteps echo down the hall. Kurt turns his head towards them, grinning like a jackal. God, but he loves when a plan goes off without a hitch! The theatricality of it is almost as exciting as being on stage … so far as he remembers. "I believe you all know the Assistant Dean of Students, Mr. Steven Matthews. I had to go to his house and knock on his door, but I was able to convince him to join us. And those gentlemen accompanying him? Well, the man in the uniform is Officer Mitchells of the Westerville Police Department. And the other man? The one who looks like me only meaner? His name's Elliott. He's a close personal friend of mine. He's here to make sure that none of you nice young men force me to do something rash."
Both boys' faces drop when they see the three men coming their way, but Jamie in particular looks like he's about to piss himself and possibly pass out afterwards.
"Step away from the door, boys," the Assistant Dean commands. "But stay right here. We need to talk."
The boys back down at the presence of the Assistant Dean and step away from the door, but they blanch when they catch a glimpse of Elliott. Dressed in a similar leather jacket and black jeans with the same collar wrapped around his neck, he stares at them with unblinking eyes, licking his lips like he's sizing up his dinner. Officer Mitchells opens Sebastian's door, which had remained unlocked, but Kurt's the first one inside.
"You two," he says, addressing the boys leaping off Sebastian's bed in surprise. They look completely stunned by Kurt, the last person in the world they expected to see. Kurt's heart and stomach start doing painful, trapeze-style acrobatics when he sees Sebastian in his chair, partially undressed and tied way too tightly, head bowed to his chest. But he feels his hands and eyes burn the better a look he gets. "Blow," he growls. "I won't ask nicely again."
They fly by him before he finishes, no need to be told twice.
"Preppy!" Kurt rushes, undoes the gag and yanks the pillowcase off Sebastian's head. Sebastian jumps, the eyes that meet his Dom wide and frantic.
He's frightened.
How dare they? How dare they tie up his submissive, his Sebastian? How dare they touch a hair on his head? Kurt wants to hit someone. He wants to find those two fuckers who just ran out of there and hit them till they bleed. He doesn't care if they look fourteen. He doesn't care if they didn't have a hand in tying him up. They were in on this. They were watching him. Someone has to pay!
"Oh, preppy," Kurt coos. "I'm gonna kill them. I swear to God, I'm gonna kill them. I'm gonna beat them with canes until they're black and blue and then hang their naked bodies by the side of the road for ants to snack on."
"I didn't hear that," Officer Mitchells says. Only a step inside the door, he turns around and walks back out into the hallway.
"D—d-do," Sebastian mutters, weakly shaking his head. "D-d-do …"
"Do," Kurt repeats. "Do what, baby? Anything. What do you need me to do?"
Sebastian smirks as best he can while trying to breathe. "D-do … m-me instead."
Kurt looks shocked, then sputters a laugh. "Oh, God, preppy," he says, blinking wet eyes he tries to hide, "you have no idea. I'm going to do you so good. I'm going to take care of you, baby. I promise. Don't expect to walk straight for about a week."
Sebastian laughs, too. Laughs so he doesn't cry.
"Did they hurt you, preppy?" Kurt asks, unknotting the ties around his wrists.
"N-no," Sebastian pants, so happy to see Kurt he can't believe his eyes. "N-not really. It was just … a little hard … to breathe … under there."
"Oh, baby. My sweet, sweet baby boy." Kurt runs his fingers through Sebastian's sweaty hair. He touches all over his face, and then down his body to make sure he's okay. Then he kisses him. It's a gentle kiss, steeped with fire but less demanding than many of Kurt's other kisses. This kiss is as close to an I love you as Sebastian has gotten from Kurt yet, and he hates that he doesn't get to put his arms around him for it. "Come on," Kurt says, finishing up with the knots on Sebastian's ankles. "We'll get your things. You're spending the week at my house while Dalton here empties the trash."
"Is that … is that allowed, Master?" Sebastian asks, meaning allowed as far as Kurt is concerned, but Kurt misunderstands, thinks Sebastian is referring to Dalton.
"Does it look like I give a shit, preppy? If they want to keep you in the dorms, they have to prove to me you're gonna be safe."
Sebastian smiles shyly and starts gathering up his books, slowly because of the long time he spent tied up and gagged, while Kurt attacks Sebastian's closets. He finds a suitcase on rollers and a duffel bag, and sets them up on the floor. Kurt's not all that forgiving with Sebastian's clothes, his attempts at folding them more like he's just rolling them into balls. But then again, Kurt has always had a healthy disdain for the Dalton uniform. Sebastian figures he can deal with the wrinkles later.
Kurt wants to get Sebastian out of there on the ASAP, and it shows.
He slams blazer after blazer, and then a mess of dress shirts, into Sebastian's suitcase, all the while thinking - why the hell would someone do this to his sub? This went far beyond teasing, far beyond hazing. This was cruel, and Kurt needs to get to the bottom of it. But he can't do that tonight, and they can't stay here, investigating and interrogating.
If they do, Kurt's going to hurt somebody. Of that, he's more than certain.
Kurt continues when the suitcase is full, shoving the rest of Sebastian's clothes into his duffel, but Sebastian has stopped with his book bag, staring blankly at the ground. Kurt notices, watches him. He would normally scold him for disobeying, but this isn't normal. Nothing that happened tonight was normal, so normal rules don't apply.
"What is it, baby?" Kurt asks. "What's wrong?"
"How do I … how do I leave, Master?" Sebastian asks. "How do I go out there? They're all going to be watching me. I thought they were my friends. I knew that Hunter was an asshole, but everyone else? They were Warblers, they were my teammates, people I thought I could count on. But, as it turns out, they never were. They hated me or, at the very least, they didn't care. They ganged up on me because Hunter told them to, and they won. They got the best of me."
"No." Kurt takes Sebastian's book bag out of his hands and sets it on the ground. Then he wraps his arms around Sebastian's waist. "Now listen to me. No, they didn't. Those punks didn't get the best of you. Far from it." Sebastian averts his eyes. Kurt fights to bring his eyes back up. "Preppy, do you know what the definition of revenge is?"
"A tire iron to the face, Master?"
Kurt chuckles. That's his sassy boy. Thank God he's still in there. "Close, but no. The definition of revenge is a life well lived. One where you get to be yourself, unapologetically so. One where you enjoy what you do, and the peons of the world don't matter. Can you say that you do that, preppy? That you live unapologetically, as often as you can?"
Sebastian nods. He's never apologized to anyone for the things he does or the things he enjoys. But the most unapologetic thing he's ever done in his life is give himself to Kurt.
"Yes, Master. Yes, I do."
"Good. Then I'll tell you how you're going to leave here. We're going to leave here together. You're going to wear my jacket so these dicks know exactly who they're messing with. When they fuck with you, they fuck with me, too, and they'd better not forget it. Then you're going to put your arm around my shoulders, and we're going to walk on down that hallway like we own this place. Because this … this horrible thing that happened tonight, isn't even a setback. These little entitled fucks can pick at us and make fun of us and call us names, but they can't touch us. Not really. You know that, right?"
Sebastian looks into Kurt's face, wildly determined, full of hope and full of care. Care for Sebastian. Kurt came back for him. Kurt knew Sebastian better than Sebastian gave him credit for, and now, here he is, ready to walk Sebastian out. He had no intention of leaving him alone. Sebastian didn't lose his Dom after all.
Maybe Sebastian can do this. He can walk out of Dalton, graduate, get his ass out of Ohio … and do it with Kurt leading the way.
"Right, Master. I know that."
Three knocks rattle the door, and Officer Mitchells steps back in. "You okay, kid?" he asks. He looks at both Kurt and Sebastian when he speaks, but constantly back at Kurt in a curious way that makes Sebastian wonder what their connection is, if this police officer may have been one of Kurt's submissives once upon a time. Or a patron of Kurt's club. Sebastian doesn't think he's ever seen this man down there before, but, to be honest, with all the time Sebastian spends on his knees serving Kurt, he wouldn't recognize one face from another if it were three inches in front of him.
"Yes, sir," Sebastian says. "I'm fine."
"Do you know the boys who did this to you? Could you identify them?"
"Yes," Sebastian says before remembering the fact that the boys who tied him up did so from behind, and they put a pillowcase over his head first, so he never saw their faces. Then there's Hunter, who didn't touch him, and didn't say anything about tying him up when they were in the room. In that case, even though Hunter was there, it would be Sebastian's word against his that he planned this. If the other boys don't confess, which they probably won't, Hunter will most likely get away clean. "Most of them."
"Well, I'm going to need identification, and a statement if you want to file a complaint."
"Y-yeah," Sebastian stutters. "Of course."
"We should also contact your parents. I think that they should know what happened tonight."
"No," Sebastian says too quickly. "N-no, th-that's alright. I'd rather they not know about any of this." He says it, but he's sure he's too late. He knows the police aren't likely to call his parents without his permission. Again … adult, which sounds lamer and lamer every time he reassures himself. But Sebastian knows someone will, one of Hunter's cronies, or even the Assistant Dean. All that bravado from earlier, even though he was correct in every word that he said, is steadily slipping away.
"You can go ahead and call me if you need anything," Kurt intervenes, reaching into his back pocket and offering up his card. "He'll be staying with me. I can have him down in the morning to make a statement, if that's alright. But I think he needs to go somewhere safe and sleep for about ten hours."
"That's fine." Officer Mitchells appears mildly conflicted, but it also seems like he doesn't want to argue. "Just take pictures. Log injuries. You know the drill."
"I know the drill," Kurt says.
Drill? Sebastian thinks. What drill? Something else he'll need to bookmark for research later on.
Officer Mitchells takes one last look at the two of them and leaves, shutting the door behind them. Sebastian hears him talk to the Assistant Dean, telling him of Sebastian's plans to leave with Kurt, saying a few other things else that Sebastian suspects smooths the way towards the Assistant Dean not stopping Sebastian at the door. He doesn't know what that could possibly be, but he's grateful for it. With every bone in his body, he needs to get out of here.
He always thought of Dalton as his second home. It doesn't feel that way to him anymore.
The door opens one more time and Elliott sticks his head in. "Is everyone decent?"
"Yeah, Ells," Kurt says, waving him in. "We're good."
"Damn." Elliott slips on through and closes the door, shutting out any prying eyes lingering in the hallway. "I was hoping I might walk in on something interesting. Oh, well. Incidentally, I got a hold of this …" Elliott holds out a cell phone to Sebastian. "Nuffle-flutter at the door had it on him. The dork with the blond hair? By the way, I think you scared the shit out of that kid, Kurt. I overheard someone say something about him changing his pants. Good job."
"Thank you, thank you," Kurt says with a half-bow.
"Master?" Sebastian says. It takes Sebastian's breath away how completely Kurt switches focus, directs all of his attention on him. "Thank you for coming to get me."
Kurt puts a hand to Sebastian's cheek, and Sebastian looks into his eyes. The whites of Kurt's eyes are redder than Sebastian remembers them being when he first saw his Dom, but then he was so overwhelmed by Kurt being there, he wasn't really paying attention. Could Kurt have been crying? "Anytime, baby. That's what I'm here for."
Sebastian turns to Elliott waiting silently with an unreadable expression lying beneath the usual under-impressed smirk he wears where Sebastian is concerned. "And … and thank you, too … Sir."
Elliott grins devilishly at how Sebastian tacks that title on at the end, drops it like a hot rock in acid. Sebastian doesn't like deferring to Elliott, and Elliott knows it. But at least he's willing to respect Elliott, if for being nothing other than Kurt's closest friend. That's worth something in Elliott's world.
Besides, tonight Elliott has begun to see with his own eyes what Kurt means when they argue about Sebastian, how far removed Sebastian is from these snots he goes to school with.
How far removed from a certain ex-asshole from Kurt's past.
Sebastian might attend Dalton, but just like Kurt, that doesn't necessarily make him a "Dalton boy".
"Bullied by assholes? An outcast for being who you are? Made fun of by preppy pricks? That officially makes you one of us now, prep school." Elliott grabs Sebastian's duffel and his book bag off the floor. He punches Sebastian lightly on the shoulder. "Don't fuck it up."
"Yes, Sir."
Elliott leaves, giving them a moment alone. He hurries down the hall with Sebastian's things to Kurt's Navigator parked outside. Sebastian hears Elliott bark like a dog to some boy who yelps. He wishes he knew who it was.
He hopes it was Jamie, that baby-faced shit licker. Maybe Elliott can make him go change his pants again.
It's getting late. Sebastian can feel it seep under his skin, exhaustion piling on top of adrenaline, pushing it down so that the only thing keeping him upright is the thought of leaving with Kurt. Kurt gets Sebastian dressed, changes him into black jeans from his suitcase that match his own, a purple Henley that Sebastian never wears ("The color of royalty," Kurt makes it a point to mention when Sebastian looks at it with a minor grimace), and the final touch, Kurt's own leather jacket – one of his favorites, a piece of armor he wears when he feels the need for a little extra authority. A certain amount of inarguable punch. He exchanges it for his favorite peacoat of Sebastian's – the one Kurt knows Sebastian is going to give him when he leaves him.
But Kurt refuses to think about that now. Because tonight, they leave together. And for the week, too. Kurt doesn't want to give in to the giddy teenager inside that's bouncing on the balls of his feet like he did that first time Blaine spent the night over at his house.
Back in Lima. Back in high school. Back before …
Well … another memory for another time.
"You ready, sweetheart?" Kurt asks, closing up Sebastian's suitcase and extending the telescoping handle.
"Yes, Master. I think I am." Sebastian reaches out to take it, but Kurt doesn't let him. Kurt promised to take care of him, and he's keeping that promise.
This is where it starts.
Kurt and Sebastian step out of Sebastian's room, and Sebastian locks the door. Kurt sweeps the hall, eyeing the boys staring through cracked doors, waiting to see what he's going to do, some of the more brazen ones standing with their doors wide open, haunting the hallway like they've got nothing to hide. When Kurt looks at Sebastian, his sub is looking at him, green eyes begging for a bit of courage to get him down the hallway and out the double doors.
And Kurt gives it to him.
"Come on, love," he says, raising his voice so that this command, this request, carries to the ears present. "Lets us go home." Kurt slips his arm around Sebastian's waist, threading his fingers in the belt loop at his hip. He rests his head on Sebastian's shoulder, cuddling in close as if there's nowhere in the world he'd rather be. Then with a gentle nudge, he takes a step, then another, leading his sub along until, head held high, Sebastian makes his way down the hall, past the staring faces and the judgmental eyes, past Jamie and Thad and Hunter (wherever the fuck he was), past Jeff hugging his boyfriend, smiling and relieved, and out the door.