Kurt/Sebastian: Rush of Blood (1/?)
Title: Rush of Blood (1/?)
Pairings: Kurt/Sebastian
Rating: PG-13 this chapter, eventual NC-17
Word Count: ~2200
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: Language (swearing and homophobic slurs).
Summary: Kurt is told to infiltrate Dalton Academy to see what the Warblers are all about, but a chance encounter on the stairs changes everything.
The Warblers were good. There was no doubt about that.
After a jaunt-seriously, Sebastian had walked so fast Kurt had been forced to trot to keep up with him-through the almost luxurious-feeling halls of Dalton, Kurt had found himself standing somewhat awkwardly in the doorway flanked by boys in sweaters and blazers, all of them there to watch the Warblers perform. And not to mock or throw food, but to enjoy and support. It prompted a lump to form in Kurt’s throat, one that he quickly swallowed down once Sebastian took the lead.
The song in itself was an interesting choice, though it lent itself surprisingly well to the Warblers’ acapella style. Their moves weren’t complicated but were more than just the step-touches Kurt had been anticipating. They were a viable threat, true competition. But he could worry about that later.
At the moment, all he saw was Sebastian dancing, undulating, writhing while he sang. It would have been enough to bring a blush to his cheeks on its own, but the way their eyes kept locking across the room was creeping the redness down from his face to cover his throat and disappear into the collar of shirt. It was just a performance, but he wasn’t used to being looked at that way, had never been stared at so… hungrily.
“You’ve been saying all the right things all night long, but I can’t seem to get you over here to help take this off. Baby, can’t you see how these clothes are fitting on me? And the heat coming from this beat? I’m about to blow. I don’t think you know.”
He probably would have been knee-knockingly smitten had their encounter not been laced with a tone of something that had made his skin prickle. How Sebastian knew who he was, Kurt had no idea, nor had he been given the chance to ask. All he had was that feeling of discomfort and an annoyingly interested libido attempting to stir to life at the sight of the Warblers-Sebastian, mostly-unbuttoning their blazers and loosening the knots of their ties. It looked so practiced, the kind of thing Sebastian had likely done a hundred times while staring seductively at someone across the room. He seemed the type.
That alone was enough for Kurt to keep himself in line to watch the performance and gain all the information he was supposed to gain instead of finding himself stricken with a helpless case of heart-eyes.
As the performance closed with a roar from the crowd and a perfectly timed wink from Sebastian, Kurt found himself shaking his head and clapping, trying to keep the smile from his face. The crowd that had gathered to take in the performance curled in on the Warblers, swallowing them up in excited chatter and half-hugs and fist bumps, and Kurt took the opportunity to slip out the door.
In his car, he stripped off the navy jacket, white button-up, and red tie, trading it for something significantly more Kurt. He was halfway finished carefully knotting his tie when a sharp rap on the window ripped a strangled squeak of surprise from his throat.
“A word, Kurt?” Sebastian asked, giving Kurt an irritated look through the glass. Kurt gulped-literally-and nodded, quickly gathering his bag and sliding from the car. He already knew that Sebastian was aware that he was there to spy since he'd called him one, but he had really thought that he would be able to get off of school grounds without an altercation. Clearly, he had been wrong. Sebastian led the way back toward the building, providing Kurt with no option other than to follow and again he found himself practically running after Sebastian.
“How do you know my name anyway?”
“You think you’re the only one smart enough to spy on the competition?” Sebastian asked, raising an eyebrow at Kurt as he opened the door and made a grand gesture toward the hallway within. “After you, Riff Raff.”
Kurt stiffened and shot Sebastian a look before stepping inside and following him a short distance to a doorway with a Dalton Café sign hung on the wall above.
“This place has its own coffee shop?” Kurt asked incredulously, unable to help himself as he stepped inside.
“Yes, and an average IQ of above one hundred unlike your pathetic excuse for a school,” Sebastian said, pointing to a table where two guys were sitting and looking their way. “Over there.”
Kurt shifted his bag on his shoulder and cringed at the pain that coursed down his arm as he headed for the table and took a seat.
“Latte?” Sebastian asked, shoving a cup in his direction as he sat down across the table between the two other guys. Kurt looked at them and smiled. They looked considerably more good-natured than Sebastian, setting him at ease as he reached for the coffee.
“Thank you,” he said before taking a small sip.
“I’m Wes and this is David,” one of the guys said, aiming a thumb in who Kurt now knew to be David’s direction.
“It’s very civilized of you to invite me for coffee before you beat me up for spying,” Kurt said, looking right at Sebastian as he said the last bit. He didn’t really get the physically aggressive vibe off of him, but if he’d learned anything in his time at McKinley, it was never to let your guard down.
“We are not going to beat you up,” Wes told him, face and tone very serious.
“You were such a terrible spy, we thought it was sort of endearing,” David added. Sebastian rolled his eyes.
“I said that we should just let you go on your merry way back to the sucking hellhole vortex that you call a school, but they insisted. And honestly, the way you were looking around all doe-eyed during the performance told me that you probably had other reasons for checking out our school,” Sebastian interjected, earning a rapid and yet visibly hardened side-eye from Wes.
“Play nice, Sebastian,” Wes said.
“Yes, sir,” Sebastian retorted, winking in Wes’ direction before laughing at the irritated look he was given in return. Kurt watched the exchange over the top of his coffee cup. Sebastian had pinged his gaydar upon first meeting and David had said that he was endearing. If Dalton really was the kind of accepting atmosphere he’d read it was, then maybe…
“Can I ask you guys a question?” he asked softly. “Are you guys all gay?”
“I am,” Sebastian immediately answered, confidence etched all over his irritatingly handsome face. “These two have girlfriends.”
“This is not a gay school. We just have a zero tolerance harassment policy,” David explained.
“Everybody gets treated the same no matter what they are. It’s pretty simple,” Wes added. Kurt stared down at his cup.
Simple. Yes, something like that should be incredibly simple, so why was it so damned hard for people to understand? What did it matter if someone liked people of the same sex or the other sex or both or neither?
“Could you two give us a minute?” Sebastian asked. Kurt heard chairs scraping against the hardwood floors and heard David bid him good-bye, but he just kept staring down. “Are you okay?”
Kurt looked up and stared, trying to find some indication on Sebastian’s face that said he was still being every bit the shit he’d been since their initial introduction.
Nothing.
“I’m the only person out of the closet at my school. And I tried to stay strong about it, but there’s this Neanderthal who’s made it his mission to make my life a living hell and nobody seems to notice,” Kurt admitted.
“They probably don’t,” Sebastian said. Kurt rolled his eyes. “Hey, I didn’t say it was a good thing. People are just really good at turning a blind eye to things that are unpleasant to think about. The kid who dresses like Betsey Johnson and a Hot Topic store humped in the back of a station wagon and produced offspring getting taunted by some jock isn’t nice to think about and would require them to actually fucking do something that might draw attention to them, so instead they do nothing. It happens… constantly.”
“Have you ever been…” Kurt started, unable to finish. Sebastian scooted his chair in closer to the table and drummed his fingers across the polished top.
“Bullied? No. I pass for straight really easily, which honestly pisses me off,” he said with a laugh. “I like dick. I always have. I don’t want to pass as straight because I have no interest in pretending to be something I’m not.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Kurt said, trying really hard not to blush at Sebastian’s self-proclaimed loving of dick.
“Look, I know what you’re thinking but just stop,” Sebastian said, leaning back in his chair and looking around the room. “You’d hate it here.”
“Excuse me?”
“You were looking around the room at everyone watching the Warblers perform like those insane people who flock around stains on a brick wall that they claim look like Jesus. You wouldn’t like it here. You couldn’t even pretend to adhere to the uniform for a half hour to sneak in and watch us perform.” Kurt blanched and tugged nervously at the collar of his shirt, wishing it was just a little looser so he could breathe.
“You have no idea what it’s like at my school. A zero tolerance policy would be-“
“A zero tolerance policy is really fucking easy to spout off about when you’ve never been in a position to be bullied. You think there aren’t homophobes and bigots in this place? You’re wrong. They’re just shoved into Stepford shells until they graduate where they can pretend like they’re so fucking high and mighty because they were in choir with that one gay kid once and didn’t punch him in the face a single time. No, there’s no bullying here, but that doesn’t change what people think,” Sebastian said, leaning forward on his elbows. “This is a good school, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not the real world. Life doesn’t have a zero tolerance policy. You need to learn how to stand up for yourself now.” Kurt set down his coffee cup and crossed his arms over his chest.
“And why should I take advice from you?” he asked, wanting to add someone who’s never been through what I’ve been through but reigning in the impulse.
“Because I’m smart and just because I’ve never been outright bullied, it doesn’t mean I’ve never had to defend myself. When this guy gives you shit, do you stand up to him?”
“Kind of,” Kurt said, dropping his gaze and feeling his pulse quicken.
“If you don’t, then you’re every bit the scared little faggot everyone who bullies you thinks you are. That’s exactly what they want, for us to feel like fucking shit about who we are, to hate ourselves as much as they hate themselves, but you know what? I don’t think you do, so stop acting like it.”
“You don’t know me. You don’t know me at all, so how can you-“
“Kurt,” Sebastian interrupted-again-and fixed him with a look, “Are you?”
“Am I what?” Kurt asked, squirming a little under Sebastian’s intense gaze. He hated the way it felt like he was looking straight through him, how easily he was reading Kurt.
“A scared faggot?”
“Stop saying that,” Kurt said, feeling his face scrunch up in disgust at the almost blase usage of a word he'd only ever had slung at him by those who hated him in the past.
“Are you?” Sebastian asked, entirely nonplussed by Kurt’s request.
Kurt sighed and relented, because he most certainly wasn’t. “No.”
“Good, then the next time that idiot gets up in your face, do something about it. Confront him. Scare him. Let him know that just because you like cock, it doesn’t make you any less a man. Stop giving him a reason to think he can intimidate you and it’ll stop.”
“Physical violence does nothing.”
“I didn’t say anything about hitting the guy, though it sounds like he would deserve it if you did.” Kurt couldn’t help but smile at that, one that immediately dropped when he again lowered his gaze.
“Look, just… call him out, okay?” Sebastian said. “No one deserves to get bullied. Not even people who dress like you.”
“And what is wrong with the way I dress?”
“Where would you like me to begin?” Sebastian asked, one corner of his mouth tugging up as he leaned back again. Kurt pushed back his chair.
“I should go,” he said. “Um… thanks. I think.”
“Take this, but only message me if you really need it. I get too many texts as it is,” Sebastian said, pulling a card out of his blazer’s breast pocket and holding it out to Kurt. Laughing a little at the audacity of a high school student having a business card, Kurt took the slim white piece of paper and pushed in his chair. He held up the card and looked at it before nodding at Sebastian and leaving.
Pairings: Kurt/Sebastian
Rating: PG-13 this chapter, eventual NC-17
Word Count: ~2200
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: Language (swearing and homophobic slurs).
Summary: Kurt is told to infiltrate Dalton Academy to see what the Warblers are all about, but a chance encounter on the stairs changes everything.
The Warblers were good. There was no doubt about that.
After a jaunt-seriously, Sebastian had walked so fast Kurt had been forced to trot to keep up with him-through the almost luxurious-feeling halls of Dalton, Kurt had found himself standing somewhat awkwardly in the doorway flanked by boys in sweaters and blazers, all of them there to watch the Warblers perform. And not to mock or throw food, but to enjoy and support. It prompted a lump to form in Kurt’s throat, one that he quickly swallowed down once Sebastian took the lead.
The song in itself was an interesting choice, though it lent itself surprisingly well to the Warblers’ acapella style. Their moves weren’t complicated but were more than just the step-touches Kurt had been anticipating. They were a viable threat, true competition. But he could worry about that later.
At the moment, all he saw was Sebastian dancing, undulating, writhing while he sang. It would have been enough to bring a blush to his cheeks on its own, but the way their eyes kept locking across the room was creeping the redness down from his face to cover his throat and disappear into the collar of shirt. It was just a performance, but he wasn’t used to being looked at that way, had never been stared at so… hungrily.
“You’ve been saying all the right things all night long, but I can’t seem to get you over here to help take this off. Baby, can’t you see how these clothes are fitting on me? And the heat coming from this beat? I’m about to blow. I don’t think you know.”
He probably would have been knee-knockingly smitten had their encounter not been laced with a tone of something that had made his skin prickle. How Sebastian knew who he was, Kurt had no idea, nor had he been given the chance to ask. All he had was that feeling of discomfort and an annoyingly interested libido attempting to stir to life at the sight of the Warblers-Sebastian, mostly-unbuttoning their blazers and loosening the knots of their ties. It looked so practiced, the kind of thing Sebastian had likely done a hundred times while staring seductively at someone across the room. He seemed the type.
That alone was enough for Kurt to keep himself in line to watch the performance and gain all the information he was supposed to gain instead of finding himself stricken with a helpless case of heart-eyes.
As the performance closed with a roar from the crowd and a perfectly timed wink from Sebastian, Kurt found himself shaking his head and clapping, trying to keep the smile from his face. The crowd that had gathered to take in the performance curled in on the Warblers, swallowing them up in excited chatter and half-hugs and fist bumps, and Kurt took the opportunity to slip out the door.
In his car, he stripped off the navy jacket, white button-up, and red tie, trading it for something significantly more Kurt. He was halfway finished carefully knotting his tie when a sharp rap on the window ripped a strangled squeak of surprise from his throat.
“A word, Kurt?” Sebastian asked, giving Kurt an irritated look through the glass. Kurt gulped-literally-and nodded, quickly gathering his bag and sliding from the car. He already knew that Sebastian was aware that he was there to spy since he'd called him one, but he had really thought that he would be able to get off of school grounds without an altercation. Clearly, he had been wrong. Sebastian led the way back toward the building, providing Kurt with no option other than to follow and again he found himself practically running after Sebastian.
“How do you know my name anyway?”
“You think you’re the only one smart enough to spy on the competition?” Sebastian asked, raising an eyebrow at Kurt as he opened the door and made a grand gesture toward the hallway within. “After you, Riff Raff.”
Kurt stiffened and shot Sebastian a look before stepping inside and following him a short distance to a doorway with a Dalton Café sign hung on the wall above.
“This place has its own coffee shop?” Kurt asked incredulously, unable to help himself as he stepped inside.
“Yes, and an average IQ of above one hundred unlike your pathetic excuse for a school,” Sebastian said, pointing to a table where two guys were sitting and looking their way. “Over there.”
Kurt shifted his bag on his shoulder and cringed at the pain that coursed down his arm as he headed for the table and took a seat.
“Latte?” Sebastian asked, shoving a cup in his direction as he sat down across the table between the two other guys. Kurt looked at them and smiled. They looked considerably more good-natured than Sebastian, setting him at ease as he reached for the coffee.
“Thank you,” he said before taking a small sip.
“I’m Wes and this is David,” one of the guys said, aiming a thumb in who Kurt now knew to be David’s direction.
“It’s very civilized of you to invite me for coffee before you beat me up for spying,” Kurt said, looking right at Sebastian as he said the last bit. He didn’t really get the physically aggressive vibe off of him, but if he’d learned anything in his time at McKinley, it was never to let your guard down.
“We are not going to beat you up,” Wes told him, face and tone very serious.
“You were such a terrible spy, we thought it was sort of endearing,” David added. Sebastian rolled his eyes.
“I said that we should just let you go on your merry way back to the sucking hellhole vortex that you call a school, but they insisted. And honestly, the way you were looking around all doe-eyed during the performance told me that you probably had other reasons for checking out our school,” Sebastian interjected, earning a rapid and yet visibly hardened side-eye from Wes.
“Play nice, Sebastian,” Wes said.
“Yes, sir,” Sebastian retorted, winking in Wes’ direction before laughing at the irritated look he was given in return. Kurt watched the exchange over the top of his coffee cup. Sebastian had pinged his gaydar upon first meeting and David had said that he was endearing. If Dalton really was the kind of accepting atmosphere he’d read it was, then maybe…
“Can I ask you guys a question?” he asked softly. “Are you guys all gay?”
“I am,” Sebastian immediately answered, confidence etched all over his irritatingly handsome face. “These two have girlfriends.”
“This is not a gay school. We just have a zero tolerance harassment policy,” David explained.
“Everybody gets treated the same no matter what they are. It’s pretty simple,” Wes added. Kurt stared down at his cup.
Simple. Yes, something like that should be incredibly simple, so why was it so damned hard for people to understand? What did it matter if someone liked people of the same sex or the other sex or both or neither?
“Could you two give us a minute?” Sebastian asked. Kurt heard chairs scraping against the hardwood floors and heard David bid him good-bye, but he just kept staring down. “Are you okay?”
Kurt looked up and stared, trying to find some indication on Sebastian’s face that said he was still being every bit the shit he’d been since their initial introduction.
Nothing.
“I’m the only person out of the closet at my school. And I tried to stay strong about it, but there’s this Neanderthal who’s made it his mission to make my life a living hell and nobody seems to notice,” Kurt admitted.
“They probably don’t,” Sebastian said. Kurt rolled his eyes. “Hey, I didn’t say it was a good thing. People are just really good at turning a blind eye to things that are unpleasant to think about. The kid who dresses like Betsey Johnson and a Hot Topic store humped in the back of a station wagon and produced offspring getting taunted by some jock isn’t nice to think about and would require them to actually fucking do something that might draw attention to them, so instead they do nothing. It happens… constantly.”
“Have you ever been…” Kurt started, unable to finish. Sebastian scooted his chair in closer to the table and drummed his fingers across the polished top.
“Bullied? No. I pass for straight really easily, which honestly pisses me off,” he said with a laugh. “I like dick. I always have. I don’t want to pass as straight because I have no interest in pretending to be something I’m not.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Kurt said, trying really hard not to blush at Sebastian’s self-proclaimed loving of dick.
“Look, I know what you’re thinking but just stop,” Sebastian said, leaning back in his chair and looking around the room. “You’d hate it here.”
“Excuse me?”
“You were looking around the room at everyone watching the Warblers perform like those insane people who flock around stains on a brick wall that they claim look like Jesus. You wouldn’t like it here. You couldn’t even pretend to adhere to the uniform for a half hour to sneak in and watch us perform.” Kurt blanched and tugged nervously at the collar of his shirt, wishing it was just a little looser so he could breathe.
“You have no idea what it’s like at my school. A zero tolerance policy would be-“
“A zero tolerance policy is really fucking easy to spout off about when you’ve never been in a position to be bullied. You think there aren’t homophobes and bigots in this place? You’re wrong. They’re just shoved into Stepford shells until they graduate where they can pretend like they’re so fucking high and mighty because they were in choir with that one gay kid once and didn’t punch him in the face a single time. No, there’s no bullying here, but that doesn’t change what people think,” Sebastian said, leaning forward on his elbows. “This is a good school, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not the real world. Life doesn’t have a zero tolerance policy. You need to learn how to stand up for yourself now.” Kurt set down his coffee cup and crossed his arms over his chest.
“And why should I take advice from you?” he asked, wanting to add someone who’s never been through what I’ve been through but reigning in the impulse.
“Because I’m smart and just because I’ve never been outright bullied, it doesn’t mean I’ve never had to defend myself. When this guy gives you shit, do you stand up to him?”
“Kind of,” Kurt said, dropping his gaze and feeling his pulse quicken.
“If you don’t, then you’re every bit the scared little faggot everyone who bullies you thinks you are. That’s exactly what they want, for us to feel like fucking shit about who we are, to hate ourselves as much as they hate themselves, but you know what? I don’t think you do, so stop acting like it.”
“You don’t know me. You don’t know me at all, so how can you-“
“Kurt,” Sebastian interrupted-again-and fixed him with a look, “Are you?”
“Am I what?” Kurt asked, squirming a little under Sebastian’s intense gaze. He hated the way it felt like he was looking straight through him, how easily he was reading Kurt.
“A scared faggot?”
“Stop saying that,” Kurt said, feeling his face scrunch up in disgust at the almost blase usage of a word he'd only ever had slung at him by those who hated him in the past.
“Are you?” Sebastian asked, entirely nonplussed by Kurt’s request.
Kurt sighed and relented, because he most certainly wasn’t. “No.”
“Good, then the next time that idiot gets up in your face, do something about it. Confront him. Scare him. Let him know that just because you like cock, it doesn’t make you any less a man. Stop giving him a reason to think he can intimidate you and it’ll stop.”
“Physical violence does nothing.”
“I didn’t say anything about hitting the guy, though it sounds like he would deserve it if you did.” Kurt couldn’t help but smile at that, one that immediately dropped when he again lowered his gaze.
“Look, just… call him out, okay?” Sebastian said. “No one deserves to get bullied. Not even people who dress like you.”
“And what is wrong with the way I dress?”
“Where would you like me to begin?” Sebastian asked, one corner of his mouth tugging up as he leaned back again. Kurt pushed back his chair.
“I should go,” he said. “Um… thanks. I think.”
“Take this, but only message me if you really need it. I get too many texts as it is,” Sebastian said, pulling a card out of his blazer’s breast pocket and holding it out to Kurt. Laughing a little at the audacity of a high school student having a business card, Kurt took the slim white piece of paper and pushed in his chair. He held up the card and looked at it before nodding at Sebastian and leaving.