Summary:
Kurt surprises Sebastian - and the entire Dalton lacrosse team - by showing up to one of their games.
Sebastian is ecstatic.
Hunter ... not so much.
Notes:
Okay, so, a while back my computer data dumped, and I had to transfer a ton of information to a flash drive, including a bunch of earlier chapters to this verse ... which I then promptly misplaced. But I found them! I am writing them and putting them up. I know that jumping backward might be annoying, but there are interactions that I feel are necessary - especially any time we see Hunter interact with Sebastian with regard to Kurt, which causes Hunter to go loco. Warning for mention of Blaine. I hope you enjoy this. Tell me what you think. 3
Kurt tromps through fresh-cut grass in black leather motorcycle boots, leaning his head back to get sun on his pale neck. He breathes in, sampling the long forgotten scent of sweet afternoon air and milkweed. He stops, throws open his arms, shuts his eyes, and breathes in again, filling his lungs to capacity.
Then he begins to cough.
"God almighty Jesus!" he hacks. "I haven't done that in a long time!"
"Here. Let me help." Elliott sticks a ciggy between Kurt's lips and lights it. Kurt takes a long, soothing drag, sucking in deep then blowing the smoke out until his body calms again.
"Mmm," he murmurs. "That's the stuff. Thank you."
"Anytime." Elliott stows his lighter, patting the butt pocket from whence it came. "Baby steps, Kurt. Our kind are indoor and nighttime folk. We don't do fresh air and exercise."
"Quite right. Quite right." Kurt blows a cloud of smoke above the heads of a group of soccer moms and dads scooting to get away from the encroaching derelicts. It's all an act, of course. Kurt jogs every morning and boxes in the afternoons, and Elliott's membership to Chuze Fitness means he attends three Spin classes a week alongside his rigorous weightlifting regime. This little performance is all a part of their favorite pastime – scaring the straights.
"So, you used to go to this school, right?" Elliott asks, following Kurt up the bleachers, accompanied by dismayed glances from adults and the snickers of a few students.
"Yup." Kurt bites the filter of his clove hard as a sudden breeze threatens to blow it out of his mouth. It stays put, but sprays ash on the spectators below him. Kurt chuckles at their ineffectual grumbling.
"Okay, well, why is this called lacrosse?"
"What do I look like?" Kurt drops down onto the topmost metal bench with a loud thunk and a reverberating clank. "Google?"
"How do you play?" Elliott reaches for Kurt's cigarette and Kurt gives it up, his eyes glued to the field.
"Goo … gle … it."
"How is it scored?"
"Google."
"How do you win?"
"Goo-gle!" Kurt sings.
"I thought you said you went to a few games back in the day."
"I did," Kurt says proudly. "Spent most of my time under these bleachers, rolling around in the grass." Kurt stomps on the metal bench beneath his feet. Heads turn, parents glare.
Kurt couldn't care less.
"So, what do you actually know about lacrosse?" Elliott asks, sucking Kurt's clove down to a butt.
"Not a good Goddamned thing." Kurt grins as the Dalton team takes the field, his eyes searching, then immediately finding, the only player he gives two shits about. "Except that my preppy looks frickin' hot in his uniform."
"Okay, guys! Huddle up, huddle up!" Hunter says, grabbing the team together at the sidelines to discuss strategy. Like it matters, Sebastian thinks. Everyone here knows the plays and besides, very few people see Hunter as their valiant leader. He's not captain. Sebastian is. But Hunter declared himself team strategist - a thing that doesn't exist - and he's bizarrely devoted to that position.
If Sebastian cared, it might bother him. Right now, he's so done with it.
Most members of the Varsity team have been playing together since they were freshmen, Sebastian included. At this point, they can read each other's minds. The seniors on the team have one thing on their minds anyway – making themselves look good, either in the eyes of the college scouts in the stands, or for the Crawford Country Day school girls who fulfill the role of cheerleaders for the only school with boys in it within five miles of their own. Besides, it's open house weekend. After playing this match and then mingling with prospective parents, everyone here will be in their cars heading off campus.
The majority of these boys' brains are already fifteen miles from here.
"Now, we ran this drill last week, and it looked good, but our offense is still weak. Thad? Michael? I'm going to need you to remember to tighten your ranks a little more around the center line. If we're going to …" Hunter's eyes flick up, locking on to something that makes him stop mid-sentence. "What the …?"
Thad's head pops up, looking in the same direction. His forehead furrows when he sees what Hunter sees. "Who the hell is that freak?"
Kevin follows suit, and scoffs. "Who wears head to toe leather to an outdoor sporting event? And you think he could get rid of the cigarette. Like, hello!"
Kevin's comment makes Sebastian's head whip around like a whirly-gig. Head to toe leather? And a cigarette? No one smokes in the stands at these games. Are you kidding? With all of the upstanding moms and dads trying to make their best impressions in front of the other moms and dads? It doesn't matter how they live their lives in private, but at these functions, whether it's a lacrosse game or a Speech and Debate tournament, they dress to the nines and remain on their best behaviors.
Only one man Sebastian knows would dare wear leather and smoke in the stands at an important Dalton function.
Sebastian looks for himself and grins because there he is, sitting amongst the Dalton parents, not as if he belongs there, but as if he rules there, in all of his leather clad and spiked silver glory.
"Are you sure that's a he?"
Sebastian aims a glare at the boy who made the offending comment. He recognizes the fact that Kurt wouldn't find it offensive, since he finds nothing about being called a woman offensive. But seeing as the remark was meant to cut him down, Sebastian takes offense anyway on his behalf. "Why don't you shut your damn mouth, Harris?"
Taken aback for only a moment, the boy shrugs his shoulders. "Why? What do you care?"
"Because …" Sebastian looks back over at Kurt sitting in the stands, taking up about five spaces with his legs spread, grinning at Sebastian like he's something he wants to eat "… that man over there is with me."
This lacrosse game moves quicker than any other lacrosse game of Sebastian's life, and he's partly to blame.
Sebastian doesn't know if he's showing off for Kurt on purpose. He probably is. He'll admit that that leap over the head of the other team's fallen defender to score a goal was hella showy and not exactly necessary. Neither was that slide across the grass to steal the ball, nor the horizontal jump Captain America style to avoid a rear interception. But seeing as he's playing the best game of his high school career, one that will put Dalton on the top tier starting next season, he doesn't think anyone's really going to rib him over it.
Actually, they probably will, but he won't give a shit.
When the last goal is counted and Dalton declared the winner, everyone in the stands leaps to their feet, the air surrounding the field electric with their cheers and applause.
Among them stands Kurt, slow clapping it out, with the smuggest smile of satisfaction Sebastian has ever seen.
"Why don't you take my car and head home, Ells?" Kurt says, handing his friend the keys without taking his eyes off Sebastian, hoisted in the air by the rest of the team as the announcer declares him MVP of the game.
"But, Kurt! However will you get home?" Elliott teases.
"Oh, I have a ride." Kurt thrusts obscenely with his hips. "Don't you worry about that."
A blonde woman seated in the row in front of them slams her hands down on the metal bench, at the end of her rope with the antics of these two men. She turns her head almost 180 degrees on her neck, breathing heavily through lips that have had some recent work done. "You're disgusting! Do you know that?"
Kurt looks at Elliott, snickering behind his hand, then back at the glowering woman. He winks, and she turns eight different shades of red. "You're not wrong."
Sebastian watches Kurt out of the corner of his eye while Hunter blathers on about the good and the bad of the game … though he mostly harps on the bad. This is one of the reasons Hunter has never been a good leader. He focuses too hard on the negative and very rarely on the positive. And he's nitpicky. God, is he nitpicky! Coach Perkins is busy schmoozing potential donors to the athletic program, so it's not like he's going to wander over to give them an after game pep talk and stop him. Sebastian is itching to point out that Michael's last fumble had nothing to do with whether or not he placed his foot down at a 48 degree angle as opposed to a 45 degree angle after his sprint to intercept the ball, but no one on the team is really listening, talking animatedly underneath him about their plans.
Sebastian catches Kurt staring at him, shit-eating grin taking up his entire face. He inclines his head towards the Dalton campus, then turns on his heel and walks off toward the dorms. Sebastian picks up his stick and helmet, and heads after him. The teammates around him, sitting in a semi-circle on the grass, watch him go with interest.
"Seb!"
"Sebastian!"
"Where are you going, man?"
"Yeah! Where are you going?"
Sebastian turns around, but he doesn't stop jogging. "Later, losers! I have a date!"
"But we won!" Hunter yells, jogging after him. "Don't you want to come celebrate? You know, with your team?"
Sebastian slows to a stop, but it's only temporary. He has no intentions of changing his mind. "Like you guys are gonna miss me! After you get through your first keg, you're not even going to remember my name! Besides, I am going to go celebrate! In private."
"He's got a point," Kevin says, picking up his gear and rising to his feet. "Come on, guys. We're done here. Let's go!"
Hunter stays behind while the rest of the team leaves and watches Sebastian run off the field, glaring at his back the whole way, filled with enough rage to set his jersey on fire.
Sebastian manages to close the distance between him and Kurt before Kurt reaches Dalton's main hall - not by much, but he does that on purpose. His Master's ass stuffed into the tight pants he wears is too delicious not to appreciate for as long as he's allowed to do so. But by the way Kurt slows up; how he starts walking one foot directly in front of the other, his hips swaying like a runway model's; hitching up his shirt with his thumbs hooked in his belt loops to give onlookers a clearer view; Sebastian knows Kurt knows he's there.
Sebastian comes up behind him, ghosting his hands over his shoulders but deciding at the last minute that touching Kurt may not be the best idea. Not with the throng of parents milling about. For now, they'll have to keep things PG. "Hello, stranger," he says, mimicking a low, seductive voice. "Fancy meeting you here."
"Indeed." Kurt pivots on the heel of his boot when he hears his sub's voice. "Of all the inconceivable places for us to run into one another."
"Isn't it, though?"
"Absolutely." Kurt grins, looking up at Sebastian through thick lashes. "That was quite the impressive game you played out there."
"You think so, Master?"
"Uh-huh. Do you usually make it a habit to carry the entire team, or was that for my benefit?"
"It is open house weekend, and I am team captain. I have to do my best to put on a good show for the parents and whatnot. Bring in that new blood money."
"You definitely did that." Kurt takes a step towards him, biting his lower lip. "And I have to admit, it was pretty damn hot."
Sebastian licks his dry lips – a habit he's developed whenever he sees Kurt bite his. God, he wants to kiss this man, right here, right now, even if it would make the biggest imaginable scene!
"Good," he says, voice soft and rough, compelling Kurt to move closer. "Because I was hoping …"
"Mr. Smythe! There you are! Just the young man I was looking for!"
Sebastian perks up like a frightened rabbit, looking over his shoulder at the approaching voice and accompanying footsteps.
"Coach Perkins!" Sebastian sees him, fresh from the field, leading a man and a woman, all three beaming at him with that variety of patronizing pride that comes with appraising an expensive painting or prized animal. "How can I help you …?" He stops a breath away from calling him 'sir'. It doesn't seem right with Kurt standing there.
"I need someone to show some parents around. And seeing as you and your team swept that last game, I thought you might be the perfect candidate."
"You were very impressive," the man says leaning in, offering Sebastian some sort of half-bow. He reminds Sebastian of his father – tall, thin, with a sharp face and white hair, the expression permanently fixed to his face telling Sebastian that he's unaccustomed to not getting what he wants.
"Yes, you were," the woman says, repeating her husband's sentiment in case Sebastian didn't understand it the first time, he assumes.
"They have two sons enrolling in Dalton, both very interested in joining the lacrosse team."
"Oh …" Sebastian's eyes bounce from face to face, trying to figure out how to back his way out of this situation. "That's … nice."
"Actually," Kurt interrupts to Sebastian's relief, "this young man agreed to show me around. We were right in the middle of our tour. Weren't we?"
"Yes," Sebastian agrees. "We were."
Coach Perkins turns to Kurt with a jerk, as if he didn't realize there was another person among them. He looks him up and down, so disbelieving of his statement that he takes no steps to hide it. "Is that so?"
"Yes," Sebastian says. "I did."
"I'm sorry," the woman interrupts, taking a step forward to properly insert herself in the conversation, "but I saw you outside watching the game with your … friend." She stops to clear her throat, and the word from her mouth. "Do you even have any children?"
Kurt tilts his head her way, unamused grin plastered to his features. "How do you know that I don't?"
"Well … I assumed ..." She waves a hand over his body from head to toe as if that answers anything.
"Ah." Kurt folds his hands in front of him. "You see. There's your problem. I mean, you do know what happens when you assume things, right? You make an …"
"Look," Coach Perkins leaps in, "I'm sure we can find another student to give you a tour, Mr. …?"
Kurt's head snaps his way so fast, Sebastian swears he hears his Master's neck crack. "And why would you do that?"
"Because Sebastian is one of our best and brightest students here at Dalton. And …"
"And I'm not worthy to be given a tour by the best and brightest Dalton has to offer?"
Coach Perkins shifts uncomfortably. "I didn't say that."
"My money spends just as good as anyone else's does."
"I never said it didn't."
"Of course you didn't."
"Look, coach …" Sebastian steps up, subconsciously putting a hand on Kurt's arm. Coach Perkins catches it, fixes his eyes to it. From his mouth to his eyes, his frown of disappointment deepens "… one of the primary tenets of Dalton Academy is integrity, isn't it?"
"Yes," Coach Perkins says, his demeanor hardening in defense before he hears the rest of Sebastian's argument.
"I made a promise to this gentleman to give him a tour. And I'm going to keep that promise."
"Mr. Smythe, I think you might not understand …"
Sebastian's brow pulls together at the man's insistence. He knows that Dalton Academy is an elitest institution. He had no illusions about that. But how the teachers and staff behave during school hours is one thing.
What his coach, a man Sebastian respected, is doing to Kurt in front of his face, is another.
"What, Coach Perkins?" Sebastian asks, sincerely disturbed. "What do you find wrong with what I just said?"
Silence builds and tension grows, bleeding around them like an iron wire, keeping them bound together, waiting for someone to relent. Coach Perkins stares at Sebastian, a stare that carries with it an unmistakable threat of retaliation, and Kurt is sure the man thinks he'll win eventually.
Which makes Kurt grin to himself, since this man underestimates his submissive Prince.
Maybe Kurt did, too … only a little.
"Nothing," the coach says, fixing a stiff smile to his mouth in an attempt to save face. "Nothing at all. You're absolutely right. You made a promise. You should keep that promise. Well said, son. And that's why Sebastian Smythe is one of the prides of Dalton Academy."
The man and woman beside Coach Perkins smile, nodding as though this whole conversation had been a pre-planned exercise to illustrate how a Dalton Academy education will later benefit their children in life.
Moral standing. And the courage to stand up for it.
But like Kurt and Elliott in the bleachers, it's an act - a way for Coach Perkins not to look like the tremendous chode he proved he is. Kurt knows it, and Sebastian knows it. Those parents – not so much, but that's because they feel the same way about Kurt that the coach does. Coach Perkins would have regained his standing in Sebastian's eyes had he owned up to his mistake and apologized. But he won't.
Adults in power rarely do.
As Coach Perkins claps Sebastian on the shoulder, he's never felt more sick of Dalton Academy in his life.
"I'm sure Hunter will be along any minute now," Sebastian adds, backing away from Coach Perkins's grasp. "I think he'd do a better job at playing tour guide than I would. If you'll excuse me. It's been very nice meeting you."
Sebastian smiles.
He can be a good actor, too.
"Nice meeting you," the parents say, waving at Sebastian, and then at Kurt, as if they'd been getting along like best friends this whole time, which cements the thought Sebastian has been having in his head more and more often lately, but for different reasons.
He can't wait to get out of this place.
"This your room?" Kurt asks, walking a slow path, examining every nook and cranny, not eager to find a place to sit down and get comfortable. It's a bedroom, for crying out loud! He should leap on the bed, stretch out, and claim it as his own, the same way he claimed his sub.
With bondage, spanking, and dirty ass sex.
But it's hard to make himself at home here. It's been a long time since he's felt at home at Dalton – so long that it's difficult to even pretend.
Especially after what just happened.
Several times Sebastian tried to apologize for his coach, but Kurt shut him down. Sebastian has to learn to stop apologizing for the sins of other people.
Besides, Sebastian stood up for him. In Kurt's mind, there isn't any greater show of lo—
… loyalty.
"Yes it is, Master," Sebastian says, taking off his jersey, his pads, and his t-shirt till he's bare chested with nothing but his shorts on.
And his jock, Kurt mentally notes. Even as a teenager, Kurt felt that was the sexiest part of the lacrosse uniform.
"You have an upperclassman's suite? What am I saying – of course you do." Kurt chuckles, mindlessly picking things up and putting them down without really paying attention to them till he comes to Sebastian's bookcase … and his pictures - of his mom, his dad. His family. He wonders if they're going to drop by – unexpectedly since Sebastian hasn't mentioned them. Unless staring at his ass has short-circuited Sebastian's brain. How would they react to finding Kurt in his room?
A lot like Coach Perkins, he suspects, but he doesn't say anything.
"These rooms haven't changed much, just like this whole damned school. Sexy, aren't they?"
"With the amount of sex the upperclassmen have, I would say they have a certain aphrodisiacal charm," Sebastian teases.
"My room didn't see much action, to be honest. No sex, very little masturbating, a few handjob fails."
"That's tragic."
"I know, right?"
Sebastian comes up behind him again, and this time, he puts his hands on Kurt's shoulders, massaging gingerly. "Maybe I can rectify that for you, Master."
"That would be nice."
"What do I get to do, Master?" he whispers. "What are my parameters here? Tell me."
Kurt shivers at the tone in Sebastian's voice. He's not commanding. He's pleading, but in a way that expresses in no uncertain terms that he plans on pleasing his Master. Kurt simply needs to tell him how.
What does he want?
What's acceptable?
How this comes so easily to Sebastian amazes Kurt. What is it inside of this boy that makes him so fucking perfect when so many grown adults have failed him so spectacularly?
Whatever it is, it's part of what promoted Sebastian from puppy to Prince.
"Why don't you get on your knees for me, preppy, and we'll move on from there."
"As you wish, Master," Sebastian says, dropping immediately to the floor.
"You're … you're not even gonna ask to take a shower first?" Kurt asks, backing up against the nearest wall, next to the door, to have something to brace himself against.
"Why would I, Master?" Sebastian tears through the button and zip of Kurt's fly with one hard tug. "I can do that later. This is much more important."
"I mean, you must be hot … sweaty … exhausted …"
"Am I, Master?" Sebastian grins against the rock hard shaft of Kurt's cock. "I hadn't noticed."
"I imagine that you …" The rest of Kurt's sentence, whatever it was, stops on the tip of his tongue and gets crushed on the roof of his mouth when Sebastian's lips slide over him. "Oh, God … that's good …" Kurt moans. "That's … that's really good … so good …"
Kurt leans against the wall, his hands winding in his bangs, hips thrusting forward in a slow fuck of Sebastian's hungry mouth. Gone is his hatred of Dalton (for the moment), and the fact that that fuck face coach tried to pawn him off on some pimply-faced, soft-headed imbecile while he stole his beautiful sub away. It's all erased with every stroke of Sebastian's tongue flat against the underside of Kurt's cock. There's so many things he doesn't care about at this moment, the list would roll down the hallway and out the door. Speaking of doors, he doesn't care that the door beside him is still open a crack, and that any manner of teacher or parent – even Sebastian's - could walk down the hall and catch them because God, he's wanted this, dreamt of this.
But not as an adult because creepy.
As a teenager attending Dalton, head over heels in love with Blaine, he imagined more than one rendezvous back in their rooms – fooling around on the hard as heck beds, making love in Blaine's private shower.
Even a magical bj, like the one he's receiving.
As much as he loathes Dalton this feels like a victory to him, coming back to this place that he felt defeated him and defiling it with this beautiful boy.
One of their 'best and brightest', which Kurt used to be once.
Now when everyone looks at him, they see a cockroach, not a successful Dalton alum.
Ironic.
Somewhere inside his brain, a teenaged Kurt Hummel smiles in glorious triumph.
Sebastian creeps a hand up Kurt's abs towards his chest. Kurt puts his hand over it, holding on, this moment congealing at the point where their hands touch. There's a bitter with this sweet, since that move stings a lot like Blaine. But Kurt has to remember that Blaine is not the only romantic in the world. His name cannot be synonymous with every romantic gesture. Kurt has to stop equating romance with that man …
… or he'll never fall in love again.
"These are our upperclassmen suites …" a voice down the hallway announces. "They're reserved for the students who best exemplify Dalton's standards of excellence."
"That's incredible!"
"That's going to be our Arnie and Danny, for sure!"
A stifled guffaw shudders Kurt's chest.
He doesn't only recognize that first voice. He recognizes all three.
"Are they single rooms?" the woman from the main hall asks.
Two footsteps and Hunter comes into view.
"Double rooms are at the east end of the hallway," he says. "The west end are entirely single … uh …"
One more step forward, and his and Kurt's eyes meet.
Sebastian pulls off Kurt's erection slightly and swallows. That exquisite tightness of his throat around the very tip of Kurt's cock feels like his sub's body spasming around him, and Kurt gasps, reaching down to wind a hand in Sebastian's hair.
Hunter, seeing this unfold, chokes like he swallowed his tongue.
"I'm gonna go ahead and shut this, preppy. Don't need any pervs spying on us."
"As you wish, Master," Sebastian mumbles from his crotch. Hunter must have heard. His scalp turns beet red, flooding his face with patchy blotches of color. Kurt smirks into the appalled face of the boy glaring his way and fucks Sebastian's face faster, undulating dramatically with every hip snap, making it obscenely obvious to his target audience what he's doing. Done with this show when he hears the parents catch up, he reaches out a trembling arm and closes the door, leaving Hunter to explain to the Stepford couple what cat has got his tongue.