ACITW AU Chapter 25C
Again, I am so, so, so sorry this took so long to get to you. For those fans still holding on, I hope this makes up for it, and as always I promise to do better in the future ;)
Plunk
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Plunk
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Plunk
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Plunk
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The sound of dull, staccato knocking against the rear windshield wedges into Kurt’s unconscious mind, like a pickaxe chipping away at his sleep. He winces with every hit against the glass, but he doesn’t open his eyes. Whatever it is trying to make its way through his skull with its incessant knocking will have to work harder, because Kurt refuses to move.
Sleeping in the tight confines of the Mustang’s backseat with his limp body draped over Sebastian has been blissful, dreamless, and even though the muscles in his back and hips ache from the strained, arched, and slightly corkscrewed position he’s had to maintain, he resents whatever it is outside the car that is trying so hard to disturb him.
He makes it his mission to stay asleep almost entirely out of spite, even though a trip to the Porta-Potty is long overdue.
Sebastian doesn’t stir an inch as the slow, erratic knocking starts, or when it increases in tempo, so Kurt feels safe ignoring it. If it was something worth worrying about, Sebastian would wake up and take care of it. So Kurt simply shifts his body a little, relieving the agony of his compressed spine, and repositioning his head on Sebastian’s chest so he can better hear the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat.
Thump-thump…plunk
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Thump-thump…plunk
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Thump-thump…
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Plunk
…
The two tempos compete but there is no contest. The calming pulse of Sebastian’s heart lulls Kurt back to sleep. He smiles, relaxed and completely at peace.
When the knocking outside turns into a driving wallop a few hours later, accompanied by the sound of a man’s voice yelling at them through the sliver of a crack in the driver’s side window, both boys’ eyes snap open as they finally begin to take better notice of their surroundings.
Kurt sits straight up. Dazed and muddled from lack of sleep and from spending the night out on the island instead of in Sebastian’s bedroom, and with his Circadian rhythm thrown completely out of whack, he tries to get his bearings, but it’s hard when everything around him is obscured and grey. The sky, the water - all grey - a single, conjoined mass of blurry wetness and indecipherable movement. Looking out of the window, peering past the people rushing around outside, their forms weaving in and out of the thick morning mist, it’s impossible to tell where the sky ends and the water begins. They bleed together, and it gives Kurt the impression of being suspended smack dab in the middle of the ocean. There’s a storm raging outside. Rain is beating down on them relentlessly - an urgent, insistent drumming against the body of the Mustang. Kurt can hear the surf pound against the narrow shore, and the wind wail as it batters the car, jostling it from side to side.
Kurt doesn’t like it.
The summer storm had started as a drizzle while they slept- not much more than a sprinkle of occasional water droplets mixed with the spray from the sea - but in no time, it had become a deluge.
Kurt is no stranger to storms - unseasonal or otherwise. Ohio gets its fair share of torrential rain storms. Some of them can relocate a mailbox, or even a tree, quiet effectively, but for the most part, the rain in Ohio is soft and soothing. It beats along the rooftops and the concrete, and the clouds filling the sky take on a soft, smoky hue, filtering the light behind them. It’s almost romantic the way the rain falls in Lima. On a cold autumn day, sitting by his window with a mug of warm milk and gazing out at the rain washing over the sidewalk and the houses was one of his favorite pastimes.
Something about this rain bothers him. The storm here by the ocean is different. It’s violent and loud - rain falling in droves and mixing with the multitudes of churning waves outside. The forks of lightning cut through the sky, almost immediately followed by the booming thunder, riling right above their heads. Kurt’s whole body trembles with each clap, like a physical hand reaching down from above and striking him forcefully.
It’s unsettling, disturbing, and all Kurt wants to do is run from it, but there’s nowhere to go.
He feels trapped.
Sebastian starts to rise, scooting up on the seat with one hand rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the other raking through his hair, carding through the knots. He yawns leisurely, shaking his head from side to side, seemingly unperturbed by the tumultuous squall. His eyes focus on Kurt, kneeling on the opposite end of the seat, trembling as another fork of lightning flashes through the sky, this one connecting with the water.
“Sebastian…” Kurt starts, his shaking voice betraying his fear.
“Hello, handsome,” Sebastian says with a bawdy half-smile that would be irresistible if not for the crash of thunder that shakes the car on its struts.
“Sebastian, we have to go.”
Sebastian blinks and Kurt stares at him, wondering exactly what it is about the words he just said along with the obvious racket from the rain does Sebastian not understand.
Sebastian looks around, his eyes widening as if he’s noticing the storm for the first time.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know,” he mutters around another infuriatingly lazy yawn.
“Sebastian,” Kurt urges, grabbing his boyfriend’s arm and shaking him awake, “we’ve got to go now!”
“I know, I know,” he continues in the same exasperatingly relaxed manner.
“Sebastian!” Kurt yells, his head turning chaotically left and right, noticing how his anxious breathing has fogged up the windows, making it even harder to see through them.
“Calm down,” Sebastian says, reaching out to take Kurt’s arms and pull his focus. “Everybody on the island is trying to get to the mainland. Even if we start driving now…”
Sebastian’s sentence is stopped by a crash of thunder so loud the car’s windows shake, and he swallows down the rest of his unimportant comment.
“Right,” he says with his eyes raised to the skies, as if answering Mother Nature’s call to leave and not Kurt’s, “we’d better get going.”
Sebastian grumbles beneath his breath, dragging his body over the back of the seats and landing heavily in the driver’s seat. Kurt follows, making his way into the passenger seat with more finesse, and buckling his seatbelt, feeling more secure with it wrapped around him.
Sebastian seems less concerned than Kurt. Even after he turns on the car and switches on the windshield wipers, now better able to see the organized hysteria outside, he still seems to dismiss the notion that they are in any real danger. As they roll out of the makeshift parking lot, Kurt begins to wonder how much of Sebastian’s laissez-faire attitude might be a touch of false bravado for Kurt’s benefit. Behind his calm façade, his green eyes dart around unceasingly, taking in the sight of the people and cars egressing en masse. He maneuvers the Mustang carefully through the oversaturated sand, which has now become a dark, sticky muck. Kurt watches it slough off into the water after the waves hit, and a new alarm goes off in his head.
Could a storm this fierce erode this narrow strip of island completely away?
A quiet voice - what remains of his rationale and common sense - pipes up to reassure him.
Of course not. This area of the Atlantic Coast is no stranger to storms worse than this, he assumes, but that voice becomes quieter and quieter the stronger the storm becomes, with them sitting right in the thick of it.
The Mustang inches closer and closer to the line of cars assembled to leave the island, and as soon as they meet up with it and edge into its ranks, they stop. They sit…and wait…with the ocean creeping closer in on their left and Kurt crowding as close to the door on his right as humanly possible. There he crouches like a frightened, cornered animal, with his knees drawn up to his chest.
It takes more than a couple of hours to get off the island because of the sheer number of people clustered together on this narrow strip of sand, all of them doing exactly what Kurt and Sebastian are attempting to do - get back to the mainland. Every few minutes the parade of cars comes to a sudden halt, waylaid by stray partyers passed out on the beach who cannot be motivated to move, even if it does seem like the end of days is suddenly at hand. Kurt doesn’t become too nervous on their behalf until the waves come up further onto the sand, washing beneath their car’s tires. He sees a Frisbee and a beer cooler wash away with the waves and he’s curious if anyone has been swept up by the tide.
The water inches higher and higher, and Kurt becomes less concerned with the random people milling about, focusing entirely on the perilous state of their own safety.
Kurt hops around inside the car, peering out the windows, trying to see past the sheets of rain pelting the glass.
“Would you sit your ass down?” Sebastian chides. “You’re vibrating like a fucking Chihuahua and I don’t need you peeing inside my car.”
“We’re going to get washed away,” Kurt mutters. “We’re going to get washed away and float out to sea.”
“Calm your tits, Hummel,” Sebastian laughs lightly. “I don’t think we’re going to float away.”
“Really?” Kurt asks, fishing for reassurance. “Why not?”
“Because we’re in a one-ton vehicle, Kurt,” Sebastian says, laughing a little louder. “We’re going to sink straight to the ocean floor.”
Kurt’s face blanches as he stops moving, staring out the window and considering the possible truth of that statement. Sebastian looks back at him - Kurt’s blue eyes wide, looking past Sebastian, past the turbulent water, past the cars rolling and braking at odd intervals, calculating…
It suddenly hits Sebastian where exactly Kurt’s terror might stem from.
“Hey,” Sebastian says, changing his tune, putting a hand on Kurt’s shoulder and pulling him close. “Hey, it’s okay, babe. We’ll be okay. I promise.”
Kurt nods and sits back in his seat, leaning awkwardly to put his head on Sebastian’s shoulder. Sebastian hands Kurt his iPhone, silently giving him permission to choose from his selection of music or audiobooks to keep his mind off of their impending journey to Davy Jones’s locker.
Even before their tires cross over the interchange from sand to asphalt, the storm quiets down. It still powers overhead as they take the bridge to the mainland, but it’s much less intimidating with the water a fair distance below them as opposed to right on their heels.
“There,” Sebastian says, pecking a kiss to Kurt’s hair as the traffic thins and their drive becomes smoother, “is that better?”
Kurt sighs. They sky is still dark, the persistent wind still batters against the sides of the car, but everything seems brighter now, less daunting.
“Are you trying to kill me on this trip?” Kurt asks, recovering a bit of his humor and stealing back the euphoria of earlier this morning - of having Sebastian beneath him, experimenting with the intimacy growing between them.
“I know I’m good,” Sebastian says, “but I’m not sure that I can control the winds and the tides.”
Kurt shakes his head.
“At this point,” he says with a chuckle, “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
***
The storm seems so far away when they reach the beach house. The dark water still roils outside, and spray from the waves hits the side of the house and the windows, but it stays sanctioned at a much more manageable distance. The house is their safe haven, and no matter what happens in the days to come, Kurt will always remember it that way.
He sighs with regret as he realizes he’s been here three days so far and he hasn’t taken a single picture. He can blame his efforts to stay unplugged, but a part of him was afraid of recording this amazing vacation in case something went wrong.
In case this thing between him and Sebastian didn’t last.
But he plans to rectify that as soon as possible.
Sebastian parks the Mustang in the car port and kills the engine. Both boys collectively relax into their seats with the relief of being home. Kurt opens his door and steps out, appraising the outside of the car, which looks worse for the wear. Sebastian sees Kurt’s eyes and the look on his face, and laughs.
“We’ll run her through a wash when the rain lets up,” Sebastian says, reaching out and taking Kurt’s hand. “Believe me. She’s looked worse.”
Kurt smiles at his sentiment, at his need to reassure Kurt, but mostly he’s smiling at Sebastian’s hand in his and how easy it is for these small displays of affection to nearly melt Kurt’s heart.
How is it that what seemed inevitable with Blaine seems like magic with Sebastian?
They walk quietly into the house. The door shuts behind them and that’s all Kurt needs to feel like himself again. The storm stays harmlessly at bay outside while they are secluded in their hideaway.
Nothing can touch Kurt inside these walls, especially with Sebastian’s hand in his.
“I need to wash off all this sand,” Kurt says, heading straight for the bathroom. He hears footsteps following him. He’s sure Sebastian will blow past him into his bedroom, but he doesn’t. He stops at the doorway when Kurt stops.
“Would you mind if I joined you?” Sebastian asks, hovering beside him, lips teasing over his, promising more than just a shower if they took one together.
“If we take a shower together,” Kurt starts, chasing Sebastian’s lips that seem to pull out of reach at the last minute, “would we be getting any actual washing done?”
“I’m sure we can fit it in,” Sebastian jokes, stealing a kiss, and then another, and another, moving his hands around Kurt’s back and reaching for the door handle. While Sebastian does that, Kurt focuses on the more important task of stripping off his clothes, peeling off his pants, ignoring the sting of his wounded leg as he grabs at the fabric with his feet and slides them off his legs, moving on to Sebastian’s pants in lieu of his shirt so as not to necessitate breaking the kisses that have begun to leave his mouth and pepper down his neck. Sebastian takes over when Kurt can’t finish, kicking off his own pants and pulling off his shirt.
“Come on, Kurt,” Sebastian says, barely moving away from his skin to speak, “let’s move this party to the shower or we’re never going to leave the hallway.”
“I fail…to see…the problem…” Kurt mumbles, struggling to get his lips to connect with any inch of Sebastian’s skin that they can. Sebastian smiles and ruffles Kurt’s hair, sending a shower of sand sprinkling to the floor around them. Kurt sighs, falling back against the door that Sebastian has yet to open. “Yeah, I see your point.” Kurt turns around and opens the door for them while Sebastian works at tugging up Kurt’s shirt. He strips it off and tosses it to the floor while Kurt limps to the shower and turns the water on. He bends over to turn the taps, unaware of what he’s done until he hears a low hum of approval and a quiet hot damn.
Kurt shoots back up so suddenly he gets tangled in the shower curtain.
“Don’t be so self-conscious, babe,” Sebastian says, resting his hands on his boyfriend’s shoulders.
“That’s easy for you to say,” Kurt says, disentangling his head from the vinyl curtain.
“Yup,” Sebastian says with less condescension than Kurt expected for such a forward comment, “it is easy for me to say.”
“Yeah,” Kurt confirms, “when you look the way you do, Mr. Captain of the Lacrosse Team.”
Kurt steps into the shower and beneath the spray, which feels hotter against his back than it had against his hand, but he lefts the steaming water engulf him anyway. He’s sick of feeling gritty. He needs to feel clean. He hopes he can rinse away the sand and only the sand - that the imprint of Sebastian’s touches, and of all his heated kisses, will stay behind.
“No,” Sebastian says with a slight emphasis, climbing beneath the water and crowding against Kurt, “I can say it because I get to look at you, my hot boyfriend, and his incredible body that he keeps hidden underneath all those vile girl clothes.”
Kurt reaches back to smack him, but his aim is derailed when Sebastian latches his mouth over Kurt’s neck, sucking and licking and tasting the salt on his skin. Kurt is keenly aware of every inch of Sebastian’s body pressed against his own, reminiscent of the way they were in the ocean beneath the moonlight. But here in their sanctuary they have privacy…and time. All the time they could ever need to touch and kiss and explore.
Kurt hears the sound of a flip-top lid and he stiffens. He knows what that sound usually means, but Sebastian shakes his head against Kurt’s shoulder. He puts a bottle into Kurt’s hands and then starts running his fingers through Kurt’s hair. The familiar scent of vanilla fills the shower. Kurt leans back against Sebastian’s shoulder, luxuriating in the feeling of his boyfriend washing his hair, massaging the sand out of his scalp, rinsing carefully with handfuls of water so the soap doesn’t run into Kurt’s eyes. Another bottle opens, and the vanilla scent becomes stronger as Sebastian follows up with the conditioning rinse.
“Hmmm,” Kurt sighs, content, all the knots in his muscles loosening with every stroke of Sebastian’s fingers, “you’re really good at that.”
“Why, thank you,” he murmurs. “It can’t be from practice. I don’t use half the amount of shit in my hair that you do.”
Kurt knows it’s a lie, having been privy to Sebastian’s impressive army of products out on the sink. Kurt recognizes the comment for what it is - a code, one that Kurt is beginning to be able to decipher without much effort.
What Sebastian is actually saying is he’s never done this with someone else before.
This is another first - an intimate moment that belongs to the two of them alone.
There’s nothing else to do than to enjoy it. Kurt feels spoiled. How in the world his he expected to return to the frugalities of everyday life when he’s had this singular attention lavished on him? Nope. He decides it’s impossible. He can’t do it. He’ll just stay here with Sebastian, in the shower, until he’s wrinkled and pruney. Why would he ever want to leave the hands that are massaging his shoulders - that have grabbed a shower pouf and are scrubbing the sand off his skin? What is on the other side of the shower curtain that is better than the lips whispering along his jaw line, nibbling at his earlobe, speaking so quietly that no matter how hard Kurt strains to listen he can’t seem to hear what they’re saying?
Maybe Sebastian’s telling him secrets he’s not prepared for Kurt to hear just yet.
The thought that he’s so close to the answers drives him insane.
What won’t Sebastian just tell him?
Kurt turns in Sebastian’s arms. It’s a movement that he has to force himself to do because he’s still not convinced that moving is the best option.
“Okay,” Kurt says, leaving the subject of Sebastian’s hidden secrets alone for the time-being, “my turn.”
Kurt reaches out for the bottle that Sebastian had put on the edge of the tub, but Sebastian grabs his wrist and leads it away.
“No, no, no,” Sebastian says, “only one of us gets to smell like dessert. Here.”
Kurt looks at the black bottle that Sebastian places in his hands and frowns.
“Ah, yes, you know that something is truly manly when it has the words pour homme on the bottle,” Kurt says judgmentally, opening the lid and squeezing a dollop into his hands.
“How about you put those hands to good use,” Sebastian suggests, removing the bottle from Kurt’s hands and returning it from whence it came, “and I’ll put that snarky mouth of yours to better use?”
Kurt doesn’t have a moment to object before Sebastian’s mouth is covering his, and Kurt stands with his hands outstretched, supinated to keep the shampoo from dripping into the tub. He moans into Sebastian’s mouth when Sebastian bites down on his lower lip.
“Uh, Kurt?” he mumbles into Kurt’s mouth.
“Yeah?” Kurt whimpers, wondering why the incredible kissing has stopped.
“My hair?”
“Oh.” Kurt runs his hands through Sebastian’s hair, and Sebastian kisses him again.
Kurt had expected Sebastian to be all over him - naked in the shower, hot and wet and covered in soap, begging to be touched. But this attention Kurt is getting from Sebastian is different. It’s savoring. Kurt is so turned on his body is screaming for Sebastian. Sebastian can’t possibly miss how embarrassingly hard Kurt is against him, but even so, it’s not urgent - not as important as the hand trailing lightly down his side, or the mouth pressing sweet kisses to his temple.
This he can do all day long and never tire of it, never have enough, even after the water gets cold….which it does, long before Kurt is ready.
“Well, that’s a first,” Sebastian says. “I don’t think I’ve ever been here until the water’s gone cold. We have a two-hour water heater.”
“We’ll have to circle this day in red on our calendar,” Kurt says, shivering despite the warmth of the water still left.
Sebastian moves away to turn off the shower and Kurt whines, missing the intimate atmosphere the cascade of water created the minute it’s gone.
“Don’t worry…” Sebastian pushes aside the curtain and helps Kurt out of the tub, his eyes traveling down Kurt’s body, stopping for a moment on Kurt’s now half-hard erection, “we’ll get a chance to christen the shower another time.”
Kurt doesn’t blush this time as Sebastian openly stares at his body. Kurt wants those green eyes on him. Sebastian’s growing smile of admiration is addictive. Sebastian reaches behind him and grabs a towel hanging on the back of the door, passing it off to Kurt. He watches Kurt wrap the towel securely around his body. With Kurt completely covered, Sebastian winks and walks out of the bathroom ahead of Kurt, naked.
“S-so what did you have planned for today?” Kurt stammers, enjoying the view.
“I’m not telling,” Sebastian tosses over his shoulder.
“Why not?” Kurt asks, turning his attention to the picture windows and their unfettered views of the storm outside. “It doesn’t look like we’re going to be doing much of anything today.”
“Just because it’s not going to happen today doesn’t mean it’s not going to happen,” Sebastian explains, opening his dresser and rooting through the contents. “Besides, I like surprising you.”
Kurt dries off and then starts to moisturize, aware of the side-long looks he gets from Sebastian when he props his legs up on the bed to smooth cream over his skin, and the not-so-subtle stop of Sebastian’s hand grabbing at a change of clothes when Kurt contorts around to rub lotion on his back. Sebastian’s eyes follow Kurt’s hands as they slide boldly down to his hips and run over his ass. As soon as he stops and reaches for a new bottle, Sebastian goes back to his task, tossing Kurt a t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. Kurt watches them land on the bed, mildly amused.
“You do know I brought clothes with me,” Kurt says, motioning to the pyramid of mostly untouched luggage in the corner.
“Yeah, I figured that out,” Sebastian replies.
“So then, why the insistence on the grunge couture?”
“Because as amazing as you look in all of your carefully crafted ensembles,” Sebastian says without a hint of mockery, “I like you in my clothes.”
Kurt bites his lower lip and smiles.
“So your clothes are a no-no for now.”
“Well, I’m going to need to get some underwear,” Kurt argues, playfully continuing the flirty thread of the conversation, “unless you’re going to lend me that, too.”
“Nope,” Sebastian says with a firm shake of his head. “No underwear.”
Kurt scoffs, but Sebastian ignores him, slipping into his pants.
“Why, may I ask, not?”
“Because I like the thought of you in my clothes…wearing no underwear.” Sebastian winks and heads for the door, carrying his shirt, leaving Kurt to ponder the fact that Sebastian has thought about Kurt wearing his clothes, while going commando.
Kurt dresses quickly and follows Sebastian out, not even bothering with styling his hair. Instead, he follows Sebastian’s example and simply runs his fingers through it a few times, letting his damp locks settle haphazardly on his head.
When in Rome and all that.
He sees Sebastian standing in front of the flat screen with the remote in his hand, pressing at buttons with absolutely no results.
“Well, the satellite’s out,” he announces when Kurt walks into the room.
“You wanted to watch t.v.?” Kurt asks, surprised since he can’t picture Sebastian being the vegetative type, unlike Puck and Finn who always had the remote permanently affixed to their hands.
“No, I wanted to sit on the sofa and make-out with you while something mind-numbing played in that background.”
“Really?” Kurt asks, excited over the concept of a good, old-fashioned make-out session on the couch.
“Yeah, that and I was hoping that we could do something that involved junk food.”
Kurt shakes his head.
“You have a Blu-Ray player,” Kurt points out. “Do you have any movies?”
“I thought about that…” Sebastian yanks the top off a nearby ottoman that doubles as media storage and reaches inside. “We usually only use the satellite, and we barely watch that as it is, so we only keep three DVDs here - Top Gun, Scream, and some black and white copy of Romeo and Juliet that I think belongs to my mom.”
“Wow,” Kurt says. “I’m not even going to ask who picked those out.”
“Safer not to,” Sebastian agrees, looking over the aging DVD covers, his eyes scanning the words and scowling after every third or fourth pass.
“I can definitely appreciate a shirtless Tom Cruise,” Kurt says, adopting a far-off, dreamy expression and gazing out the window.
“Pass,” Sebastian says, dropping the movie back into the ottoman.
“And I’m not really up for a blood and gore flick.”
“Oh, why did I know we were going to get stuck watching fucking Romeo and Juliet?” Sebastian groans, dropping Scream down alongside Top Gun and hastily throwing the lid back on the ottoman.
“Come on, Bas,” Kurt says, heading to the kitchen in search of popcorn, “it’s a classic.”
“It’s boring,” Sebastian moans after him.
“Don’t worry…” Kurt finds the box of popcorn and opens it. “This will be as painless as possible. You’ll see.”
***
“But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun…”
“Ugh! Laaame!” Sebastian tosses a kernel of popcorn into the air and catches it in his mouth. He’s done that for most of the kernels he’s eaten so far, and he never misses.
Finn and Puck would definitely be impressed, Kurt thinks.
“Bas, are you going to groan every time Romeo says something romantic to Juliet?”
“Yes.” The answer is straight-forward and simple, unapologetic.
“Why?” Kurt reaches for the remote to put the movie on pause while they talk, but Sebastian snatches it quickly away, not willing to prolong his agony by stopping the film while they hash out the pros and cons of Shakespearean romance.
“Because they were imbeciles,” he says, shoving the pilfered remote beneath his cushion of the couch.
Kurt gasps.
“Romeo and Juliet were not imbeciles,” he says in defense of the Bard’s masterpiece. “Shakespeare was not an imbecile.”
“I didn’t say Shakespeare was an imbecile,” Sebastian says, “but Romeo and Juliet definitely were.”
“Give them a break.” Kurt reaches for a handful of popcorn, trying to come up with a way to steal back the remote. “They were only teenagers. They got a little…overdramatic.”
“They killed themselves! That’s a little more than overdramatic.”
“They were soul...”
“Uh-uh,” Sebastian says, throwing up a hand and covering Kurt’s mouth to stop him from going any farther with his statement, “don’t say that word. They were 14! And they only knew each other for what…four days?”
Kurt cocks his head and looks up at the ceiling, doing some mental math in his head.
“No, wait,” he says, shaking off Sebastian’s hand from his mouth so he can speak clearly, “they met on a Sunday and they were dead by Thursday. Isn’t that five days?”
“Yeah, but Juliet was fake dead for about 42 hours,” Sebastian clarifies. “It’s a continuity error.”
“Well, Shakespeare was a playwright, not a mathematician, and you’re changing the subject,” Kurt continues. “The story was trying to prove a point.”
“Yeah, and the point is that they were imbeciles.”
Kurt huffs in frustration and turns away, but Sebastian, passionate about his argument, sets the bowl of popcorn aside, kneels on the sofa, and hovers over him.
“I mean, what if Romeo wasn’t even the one?” Sebastian presses.
Kurt grimaces up at his insistent boyfriend. There’s something strange in the soft green of Sebastian’s eyes. This isn’t just an argument about Romeo and Juliet. There’s something else behind it.
“But for Juliet, he was,” Kurt explains.
“Well, how will they know?” Sebastian asks. “They’re both dead now!”
“They were so completely in love that they didn’t want to live without each other!” Kurt now feels like he’s defending more than just the play. “It’s romantic.”
“It’s deranged!”
Kurt rolls his eyes.
“We’ll agree to disagree.” Kurt clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “You’ve obviously never been in love.”
Sebastian, in the process of returning to his seat on the sofa, stops cold. He stares down at the floor, contemplating, and then turns his head to look back at Kurt.
“You don’t really know anything about me, Kurt,” Sebastian says, and Kurt’s surprised by the hard, determined tone in his voice. “You said so yourself. And you don’t get to hold the franchise on being in love just because you write Twilight fanfiction and you buy into all that soulmate crap.”
Kurt flinches. He doesn’t know why, but he feels like he’s been hit. He doesn’t have a response for Sebastian. He never said he had the franchise on love, but Sebastian’s reaction seems a little out of left field and slightly uncalled for considering the circumstances. Kurt finds himself pulling away. Suddenly, he doesn’t want to be there anymore, sitting on the couch, watching Romeo court Juliet in a scene that he had always considered the epitome of romantic expression. Sebastian has just changed Kurt’s perception of all his romantic ideals - the way he has changed Kurt’s perception about so many things - but with regard to this one, Kurt doesn’t feel those perceptions have been changed for the better.
He wants his ignorant assumptions back.
He turns his face, and then his eyes, and stares back at the screen with the movie still running, unperturbed by the argument taking place.
Kurt hears Sebastian sigh on the seat across the couch but he doesn’t avert his eyes to look at him. He assumes he’ll switch the movie off and then do…what?
Kurt doesn’t know.
“I’m sorry,” Sebastian says quietly. “I didn’t mean to get on your case like that.”
“It’s alright,” Kurt says banally. “Forget it.”
Kurt doesn’t expect an explanation, but he wants one, and when Sebastian doesn’t offer, he feels his hackles rise.
Kurt feels put at a disadvantage - that in some ways, this relationship is mostly one sided.
Sebastian knows Kurt’s pain. It was like a play performed, in some ways, for Sebastian’s amusement, Kurt feels. Kurt is beginning to know Sebastian better, but the pain that Sebastian carries is like another wall surrounding him. Even with most of his barriers broken down to let Kurt in, this one remains - too high to climb, too wide to walk around, with no way for Kurt to pick through because he has no idea what he’s trying to tear down.
The silence that follows is excruciating. So many of Romeo’s speeches pass without any of Sebastian’s commentary, and Kurt feels like he’s sitting beside the old Sebastian again.
Kurt hates it.
He takes a deep breath, trying to think of a way to muscle through the tension.
“So, who is he?” Kurt asks.
A whole minute passes before Sebastian answers.
“Who?”
Kurt pauses, certain that he should abandon his next question, but a small glimmer of indignation rears its head and Kurt finds he can’t let it drop.
“The guy who broke your heart?”
Sebastian looks at his boyfriend, looks at how he sits ramrod straight with his eyes staring at the screen while he speaks. He crosses the couch quickly and captures his lips in a kiss. Kurt’s face scrunches. He pushes against Sebastian’s chest, shoving him away, not allowing this conversation to be swallowed away with placating affection.
“You can’t diffuse every uncomfortable situation with sex,” Kurt snaps.
“Who says I can’t?” Sebastian’s smirk returns and Kurt’s happy to see it, but it infuriates him, too.
“You said I get to learn things about you,” Kurt says, moving back from Sebastian’s advances until he’s nearly leaning backward over the arm of the couch, “and you get to learn things about me, too. But you don’t get it both ways. You don’t get to pry into my life while you keep secrets. You know who broke my heart, and I want to know who this boy…man…person is who broke yours.”
“You’re right,” Sebastian says, wrapping an arm around Kurt’s waist and pulling him back over the arm of the couch and down onto the cushion, “but I reserve the right to answer that question another time.”
“But…”
“Kurt…” Sebastian bows his head, pausing to take a breath, not wanting to start a fight, not after everything that’s happened between them so far, “I’m not saying this phantom asshole that you want to know about exists…” Kurt stifles a groan and steers his head away. Sebastian kneels up, fighting to catch Kurt’s eyes. Kurt struggles to look away, but Sebastian pins him to the cushions, staring, his face almost uncomfortable close, “…but even if he does, being here with you isn’t about him…or Blaine. It’s about us.”
Kurt hears a tiny crack in Sebastian’s tone when he mentions Blaine’s name - an almost indecipherable fissure that Kurt catches, and with that break, Kurt gives in. Maybe Sebastian doesn’t have a tale of mysterious heartbreak, but Kurt does, and it’s almost always hanging over their heads.
“Now, you have every right to know about every person I’ve ever fucked or had my mouth on,” Sebastian continues. “You have the right to know if I’m clean, which I can promise you I am. But is now really the time to drag out the long, uncomfortable list of my past partners, or can we just jump to the end where I get to make love to you…and only you?”
Kurt’s mouth drops open in surprise.
“Tonight?” he asks, pleading with his mind.
Yes, tonight. Please, tonight.
“No, not tonight,” Sebastian says. Kurt deflates and Sebastian laughs, burying his head into Kurt’s shoulder, “but there is something I’d like to do…if you’d let me.”
Kurt raises an eyebrow, relieved at the return of his boyfriend - relieved with the fact that they can have these disagreements and still be them. One fight won’t end them.
“Does it involve small furry animals…or insects?” Kurt asks. “Because I have lines that I don’t have any intention of crossing.”
“That’s not until later.” Sebastian stands, pulling Kurt off the couch with him, walking backward toward the bedroom, leading Kurt along. Flashes of memories fight with the present, and in the fading light that shifts when lightning strikes outside, a different face replaces the one in front of him. Kurt blinks hard to dispel the image. Kurt’s tied up in a braid of emotional knots - excited and anxious, but melancholy, too. He follows Sebastian, keeping that string of knots tucked hidden away. Sebastian is right. This trip is about them - every single moment of it.
It’s not about him forgetting about Blaine necessarily.
It’s about his blossoming feelings for Sebastian.
Be that as it may, he hopes there will come a day when foraging ahead into the new doesn’t come with so many bittersweet memories of the past.
They walk through the threshold of Sebastian’s room, and Sebastian pulls Kurt close, spinning him around, and shutting the door behind them. He holds Kurt and kisses him, moving, swaying, dancing in small circles, all the while backing up toward the bed.
The room is aglow in soft, amber light from the sunset outside. The rain is still falling, beating against the window, but it’s more melodic than it was before. It’s an addition, not an intrusion. There’s an occasional flash of lightning and clap of thunder, but the lightning doesn’t scatter the shadows quite as chaotically, and the thunder is muted, traveling swiftly out to sea with what remains of the receding storm.
Sebastian lays Kurt down on the bed behind them, watching Kurt’s face as he does, feeding off his cues, making sure that he’s alright. He gives Kurt one more kiss when his head hits the pillow before sitting up and pulling his shirt back off, tossing it aside and onto the ground. He doesn’t tug Kurt’s shirt off right away. He leans over him, licking circles onto the skin of his neck while he peels the garment up slowly, brushing up his smooth skin with the tips of his fingers, running his nails back down to his stomach, and then pushing the shirt back up his torso again. Push and pull, up and down over his skin, as Sebastian’s lips slid against Kurt’s mouth, tugging at his lip, teasing his tongue, smiling against his skin when Kurt whimpers for more. Sebastian picks that moment to sit up and tug the shirt over Kurt’s head, tossing it somewhere in the room.
Sebastian looks down at Kurt, looks down at his face, his lips, the stretch of his neck, the planes of his chest, trying to decide on a place to kiss. Kurt swallows; the movement of his throat catches Sebastian’s attention, so that’s where his mouth goes. He kisses and sucks, blazing a trail down his neck to his chest, circling one nipple with his tongue, lapping in swirls until Kurt lets out an audible moan.
“You like that?” Sebastian murmurs, humming over the sensitive, rose-colored nub.
Kurt wants to say yes. He wants to say anything. He wants to be witty and smart, and not the incoherent puddle of goo that he becomes beneath every swipe of Sebastian’s tongue. So, instead of saying anything intelligible, he moans again, but to his benefit it sounds remotely like a yes. Sebastian smiles. Kurt can feel it. He can feel everything more now when Sebastian runs his tongue over him. Sebastian kisses across Kurt’s chest to the other nipple, showing it the same attention in small, slow circles and gentle tugs of his careful teeth. Kurt arches his back and Sebastian slips his hands beneath him, curling his fingers over Kurt’s spine.
He doesn’t want to compare Sebastian to…well, to the-boy-he-has-no-intention-of-thinking-about-from-this-moment-on, but it’s hard not to. This is all brand new now. There are things he expects, things he thinks Sebastian is going to do, and when he doesn’t, it’s exhilarating.
“Oh my God,” Kurt mutters in an unbidden voice as Sebastian’s tongue travels lower, in lazy circles, curling over his ribs, tracing along his muscles, planting a long kiss over his soft belly. Sebastian grabs the waistband of Kurt’s pants, tugging down slowly, inch by inch, kissing and sucking over every new patch of sensitive skin he reveals.
“Sebastian?” Kurt breathes. He doesn’t necessarily mean for it to sound like a question, but it does. He’s asking the question Sebastian will ask when he catches his breath.
“Are you okay with this?” Sebastian asks, peeking up over Kurt’s pants, over his belly, so that when Kurt peeks back all he sees are his eyes - cautious and anxious and full of something that could very well be close to…
Stop, Kurt tells himself. I’m not thinking of that, either. The nameless boy and that. Not now.
“Yes,” Kurt says. “Yes…completely okay…totally okay…yes…”
He may have rambled on like an idiot, he realizes. Sebastian snorts as he returns to kissing Kurt - actually snorts when he laughs, and it’s the most adorable thing Kurt has ever heard. He files that under the list of things he’s beginning to learn about Sebastian.
Kurt’s first instinct is to close his eyes, lie back on the pillow and suck all this in, but he can’t believe this isn’t a dream, and for that reason, he needs to see.
He watches Sebastian undress him. He takes such care in pulling the pants down his legs, stopping to plant kisses on his hip, his thigh, his knee, his ankle.
“So beautiful, Kurt,” Sebastian mumbles to himself as he moves over Kurt’s body; it’s only a consequence that Kurt actually hears. Sebastian keeps muttering as he takes off his own pants and climbs back up on the bed, “So beaut…why didn’t I…should have told…”
Kurt only catches bits - a word here, a phrase there. Sebastian lies comfortably between Kurt’s legs. He takes one last look up Kurt’s body, meeting his eyes, smiling, looking shy which Kurt hadn’t expected, and he blushes - honest to God blushes. He kisses the inside of Kurt’s thigh, creeping slowly up his skin, and Kurt grabs at the sheets, rumples them tightly in his hands in anticipation of where those kisses will end. Sebastian kisses up between his thighs and Kurt lets them fall open, silently asking for more, unafraid and unashamed and begging for his mouth. Kurt feels Sebastian’s nose run along his skin, breathing him in.
A single touch of Sebastian’s tongue to his shaft has Kurt gasping loudly into the open air.
Kurt lets his head fall back, his eyes falling shut. He can’t look at Sebastian…correction - he can’t keep looking at him and expect not to cum in three seconds flat. He can’t keep gazing into those eyes - green like spring moss after the rain, blowing wide around dark, unfathomable pupils, staring up at him, watching his every breath, every move, every inflection. Sebastian’s mouth engulfs him, devours him, and after one, long suck from base to tip, Kurt arches his back and moans.
“Sebastian!”
Sebastian hums when he sucks again and Kurt almost cries out. This is so different, so unreal. Kurt feels so exposed, but so safe. He wants to be perfect, but he’s not afraid of his flaws. He revels in the heat of this new mouth on his skin. Sebastian’s tongue, which does not disappoint, strokes him back and forth. His hands scrape down Kurt’s legs, following the trail back up again, lighting every nerve on fire as they go. They slide behind Kurt’s ass and knead his taut flesh, pushing Kurt’s cock inside Sebastian’s mouth while Sebastian takes him deeper and deeper.
Kurt’s hands scratch and claw at the sheets beneath him. He contemplates the social faux-pas of possibly shredding the sheets to pieces when Sebastian’s hands move again and take ahold of Kurt’s hands. He laces their fingers together and Kurt’s breath catches in his throat. He would have thought that having Sebastian suck him off was one of the most intimate things he could think of, but this…holding his hands, running his thumbs over his knuckles, being connected, needing to know Kurt is there - that is where all other intimate moments fail. Kurt feels Sebastian’s need. Sebastian needs him. It’s a raw need, but not a sexual one.
And that’s the trigger.
All the bittersweet memories from before this started, all the unnecessary comparisons he’s been making, they all wash away, and his mind becomes a flurry of thoughts and emotions tied to this love he’s had for months that he only now became aware of.
“It apparently kinda kills me a bit to see you crying…”
“I call him mine…”
“I want to take care of you…”
“So, I’m hiding behind the rose bushes along the garden wall, just so you know, and getting stuck with about a million thorns in order to have this conversation, so don’t say I never did anything for you…”
What he’s feeling is love. It has been love for a while now. It’s not just the love that comes from a surge of adrenaline in those precious euphoric seconds before you cum in the arms of your lover. It’s more than that. It’s love wrapped up in snarky remarks, inappropriate comments, vengeful dance lessons, the Aston Martin Sebastian borrowed without permission, and Kurt’s favorite cup of coffee.
Now Kurt can stare it in the face, acknowledge it - accept it.
The only problem he has now is does he let Sebastian know?
“I…” Kurt whispers, but since the only sounds in the room are the snuffle of Sebastian’s breathing and the pitchy whine of Kurt’s moans, Sebastian hears him.
“Hmmm?” It’s a sound, not a word, since Sebastian refuses to stop what he’s doing to talk.
“I…” Kurt licks his lips. His head rolls back and forth on the pillow. He tries to capture his thoughts, school his breathing, but he can’t do it. Sebastian squeezes his hands and Kurt squeezes back, and that’s the moment when his entire body spirals completely and rapturously out of his control. “I’m cumming. I’m…I’m cum…oh, God…”
Kurt’s back arches beneath him as Sebastian sinks over him, taking him in and swallowing around him. Kurt squeezes his eyes shut so tight his head aches, but that’s nothing compared to the great swell of complicated pleasure overflowing within him. He feels light, like he can simply float away into the atmosphere, that he will dissolve into ozone and blow away on the breeze if not for Sebastian’s hands in his, anchoring him to the earth.
Sebastian crawls up Kurt’s body, looking wrecked, sated strangely, Kurt thinks, seeing as he wasn’t on the receiving end of that amazing orgasm. Sebastian bites his lip so innocently that Kurt expects a bolt of lightning to strike them any second from the epic lie of those demure-looking eyes.
Kurt doesn’t know what to do, face to face with Sebastian - Sebastian’s eyes searching his in question. Does he say thank you? Does he say wow? He doesn’t think on it too long before he decides he wants to return the favor.
“Now you,” Kurt says with a sly grin, climbing on top of Sebastian as an uninvited yawn escapes his lips. Sebastian grabs Kurt’s waist, stopping him.
“Kurt,” Sebastian says, his voice soft but for some reason stern, “I didn’t do that so you would reciprocate...”
“I didn’t say that you did,” Kurt responds quickly, not wanting to seem insulting…or maybe ungrateful. He’s not sure how he sounds exactly. Some of what he’s thinking doesn’t even make much sense. His head is swimming with the need for a good, solid night’s sleep, but he’s fighting it with everything he’s got.
“Let me finish.” Sebastian runs his hands through the loose waves of Kurt’s hair. “I did it because I’ve spent a lot of time taking from people. I don’t want to take from you. I want to give. And part of giving means doing something and expecting nothing in return.”
“But, it’s not a have to,” Kurt argues past another yawn. “I want to do something for you.”
Sebastian traces circles over Kurt’s hip, looking into his eyes, the wheels in his head turning.
“Ok, there is one thing…” Sebastian’s smirk overwhelms his face, and Kurt balks for a second, imagining what outlandish thing Sebastian might think up to stump him. Sebastian laughs at the stunned look on Kurt’s face, and he shakes his head. “Nothing like that,” he says, reading his thoughts. “Sleep with me…”
Kurt rolls his eyes.
“We’ve done that every night we’ve been here.”
“No, I mean…naked. Don’t put your clothes back on. Just, lie in my arms and let me feel you next to me.”
Kurt stares at Sebastian in the gathering dim light, trying to unravel the ever-changing emotion on his face that comes with those words.
Kurt crawls back beside him, lying against him, resting with his head over Sebastian’s chest and winding a leg over his. Sebastian’s arms wrap around him and Kurt notices how Sebastian holds him close. Kurt kisses his chest, in the spot above his heart, and he hears Sebastian sigh.
It’s a sad, lonely sound.
Kurt thinks about this - the way they are, what they’re doing. He thinks about how Sebastian looks at him with a wistful look in his eyes, seeing something that Kurt has yet to see.
Everything Sebastian says, he says with such finality.
Kurt knows what his own fears are.
He falls asleep, trying to imagine what fears a boy like Sebastian might have.