FIC: Each Unhappy Family, 1/?
Title: Each Unhappy Family
Characters/Pairings: Kurt/Sebastian, Rachel (mentioned past Kurt/Blaine, Rachel/Jesse)
Rating: eventual NC-17
Word Count: aprox. 6200
Summary: Being Human!AU. Sebastian is a werewolf, Kurt is a vampire and Rachel is a ghost. Together, they are sort of like a family.
EACH UNHAPPY FAMILY
Prologue
Chapter 1
It was early September and the weather was still warm. Kurt basked in the sun, even when it burnt a little on his too pale skin. He felt cold - he always felt cold - so it was nice to let the sun reach what little skin his outfit was showing. People always looked at him during the summer, when he walked around the city covered in layers and wearing fingerless gloves, but at least he could pass his clothing habits as fashion choices.
“Are you done staring into space, princess? There’s a gazillion boxes to carry and most of them are yours.”
Kurt looked at Sebastian, his arms holding what looked like a heavy box, his features schooled into a frown.
“You keep insisting I’m the girl in this relationship,” Kurt replied. “Therefore, you get to do all the heavy lifting.”
Sebastian snorted, sticking his tongue out at him before continuing a slow walk towards the apartment, heavy box still in his arms.
“Really mature!” Kurt exclaimed behind him.
“Well, if you two are almost ready,” said a voice next to Kurt, “I’ll just leave the keys with you and go.”
Kurt turned to look at Jesse, their new landlord. He was looking half bored and half expectant, holding a set of keys Kurt’s way. Kurt took them and looked back at the apartment building where Sebastian had just gone into carrying one of the boxes.
Their latest apartment, a little shoe box which only good attribute had been being in Manhattan, had sadly been sold to a couple of newlyweds just last month, forcing Kurt and Sebastian to look for a new place to stay in the city. They had almost lost their feet walking around in the search of a place that wasn’t infested by cockroaches, didn’t have a weird smell and had actual walls in it. Somehow, they had stumbled upon a bargain offered by the same man that had just given Kurt the keys: a fairly decent apartment in Soho at an entirely too cheap renting price.
“Can I ask you something?” Kurt asked, turning back towards Jesse, who was combing his hair back in a gesture that brought to mind Danny Zuko. Kurt looked at him, tilting his head to the side, and pictured him starring in a Grease revival.
Jesse looked up, letting his hand fall back down. “Sure,” he shrugged.
“Why is this place so cheap? Really. There has to be something wrong with it. You can tell me, we’ve already paid the first three months.”
Jesse’s hand went back to his hair almost immediately. “Look, I just want to rent it fast, alright? This place is filled with bad memories for me, and I can’t deal with the melancholia.” Jesse looked forward then, away from Kurt and to the horizon in a way that resembled a Greek character at his most tragic.
Huh, Kurt thought, maybe not Grease, then. This guy was meant for drama.
“Anyway,” Jesse shook his head. “Is it alright if I leave you two to it, then?”
“Sure, of course.”
Kurt waved goodbye awkwardly, looking back at the pile of suitcases that they still had left to carry into their new apartment. Sebastian had been exaggerating, of course; there was almost nothing left. With a tired roll of his shoulders, Kurt piled one of the smallest suitcases on top of the other, and a little unsteadily made his way inside the building, making sure there was nothing left behind on the street.
During the elevator ride, he blinked his eyes several times, already regretting spending too much time out in the sun. No matter how much he reveled in the warmth, and how grateful he was that the whole burning in the sun thing wasn’t actually true, his eyes and skin were still sensitive to the light. And he was still cold.
Before reaching the apartment, he heard a voice coming from inside it, and rolled his eyes at the idea that Sebastian had already managed to charm a neighbor into their house. Honestly, the man had been left alone for five minutes. He went through the open door, uncomfortably carrying three suitcases and ready to grumble at the excessive work, when he caught sight of Sebastian, still holding a box between his arms and staring at something in front of him with wide eyes. Said something was nothing but a girl their age clad in the most horrendous sweater Kurt had ever seen and ranting as if she were invisible.
“-and I will make the walls bleed, I swear,” she was saying, her eyes crazy looking and her pointed finger a silent threat. “He can’t rent this place just like that. This was supposed to be our place, the one we came back to when we were rich and famous and looked upon with deep nostalgia for the simpler days. I was going to win my first Tony while living here!” She stopped her rant, and Kurt flinched when she looked their way. Then, she kept going, “I will learn how to move things, and make noises and you two will be so scared by the time I’m done that you will never-”
“Kurt,” Sebastian whispered, his mouth twisted and his eyes still fixated on the girl.
“Yes, Bas?”
“There’s a crazy girl in our apartment.”
“I can see that.”
“-and Barbra movies on constant replay on your TV, and-Wait, you can see me?”
Kurt blinked her way, his mouth slightly parted in surprise at finally being acknowledged. “… Of course?” he answered, unsure what the right thing to say was.
“Oh my God,” she said. “Oh my God.” The screech that followed was almost inhuman, and Kurt would have been worried for his eardrums had he not been more so about the girl jumping his way and putting her arms around his waist in an awkward hug.
“Oh my God,” she said again. “You can touch me too!” There was a second squeal of joy, and when Kurt looked at Sebastian for help, he found him snickering, box still in his arms. Kurt scowled at him.
Kurt looked down towards the girl, putting his hands on her shoulders and patting them gently. She was tiny, and she looked harmless enough, but one could never honestly tell, so Kurt was cautious when he pushed her away a little bit, enough to look into her dark, big eyes. He tried for a small, reassuring smile.
“Why exactly shouldn’t we be able to see you?” Kurt asked. “Or touch you?”
“Because I’m dead, of course,” she answered, as if Kurt was being obtuse.
“Of course,” Sebastian parroted behind her. “How didn’t we see that one coming?”
Kurt glared at him while the girl finally released him and took a couple of steps back. She cleared her throat, flipped her dark hair behind her shoulder and straightened her clothes, a plaid yellow skirt and a burgundy sweater with a white reindeer on it, both ugly to the point of being offensive.
“I’m Rachel Berry,” she said, extending her hand towards Kurt. “I was going to be a Broadway star, but a tragic death at the age of twenty-two cut my dreams short. Obviously, my talent was not to be wasted, so I have been brought back as a ghost with some undetermined purpose as of yet. But a magnificent one, I bet.”
Kurt was dumbfounded. He blinked once more her way, before finally managing a reaction and grabbing her hand in a soft shake.
“Kurt Hummel,” he offered quietly. He thought that the girl - Rachel - could easily be mad, but then again, he wouldn’t be surprised if she were telling the truth. Hell, he was dead himself, if one were to get down to it.
“And you’re haunting our apartment?” Sebastian asked from the other side of the room. He had finally put the box down, and now was taking the couple of steps that separated him from Kurt. He stood by his side, a warmth, solid presence.
“My apartment!” Rachel protested.
“That’s not what it says on the lease, Casper.”
She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and kicking the floor. She looked like a five year old ready to throw a tantrum, and of course, Sebastian would manage to piss off the ghost. Kurt elbowed him softly, sending another glare his way.
“What?” he complained. “It’s true.” He turned Rachel’s way then, and he looked almost like a giant next to her, his tall frame dwarfing her shorter one. It didn’t seem to have any effect on Rachel, who stood her ground with a glare of her own.
“Well, consider your apartment officially haunted, then,” she said.
“Or, you could follow the light and get lost,” Sebastian countered, pushing her shoulder slightly with a couple of fingers. Rachel’s expression changed quickly, and then she was squealing again.
“You can touch me, too!” she exclaimed.
“Wait, don’t-“before Sebastian had finished, she was already wrapped around his waist, “- hug me.”
Sebastian sighed, and this time Kurt was the one snickering. It was a funny picture, with her being so tiny and him so tall, and Kurt would have called them adorable if only he didn’t know that would earn him Sebastian’s wrath.
“This girl isn’t a ghost,” Sebastian said. “She’s just crazy.” Still, he did nothing to push her away, and it was her who took a step back and looked up.
“I am, I swear. You two are the first people who have seen me. Definitely the first two I’ve been able to touch.”
Sebastian threw an exasperated look Kurt’s way, which then turned questioning. He might have been inclined to go with Sebastian’s theory, except that Rachel smelled of absolutely nothing. Everyone had a particular scent, even humans, supernatural creatures like Sebastian and himself even more so, but not Rachel.
“So, uh…” Kurt started. “Did you die in the apartment?”
“Not exactly,” she said, stepping away from Sebastian and walking to the still open door. “I was there, actually,” she pointed at the hallway.
“The stairs?”
“Yes,” she nodded, walking towards them and stopping at the edge. “I don’t really remember, but I heard Jesse telling my dads. I guess-I guess I just-”
Kurt heart sniffling coming from her, and his non-beating heart cried a little for her. He wanted to go to her and offer some comfort, but her eyes were firmly set on the stairs, as if they were a big old enemy.
“I don’t get it,” she continued. “How could I have been that clumsy?” She made as if to take a step forward, and let one of her feet hang in the air.
Kurt wanted to stop her for some reason, but he didn’t. She finally placed her foot on the first step, and when she did, she looked their way and mouthed an oh, before banishing into thin air. Kurt gasped, and looked back at Sebastian.
“So we have a ghost,” Sebastian said. “Fun.”
-o-o-o-o-
“I’m so done with this day,” Sebastian said, biting a sigh as he sat next to Kurt. He threw his head back on the chair, and closed his eyes.
Kurt was happy to ignore him and continue his work. Sewing hats - ugly, awful hats at that - had to be the most boring activity in the world, but the faster Kurt finished, the earlier he would go home.
Being a stagehand wasn’t a dream job, but it gave them both exactly what they needed: anonymity. Kurt had actually been working as one when he had met Sebastian a couple of years ago, and had already discovered that the job offered what he was looking for. It wasn’t easy for a vampire to move in the world, not when his real ID would show that he was 117 years old, and had no real formation of any kind. Kurt could sew, though, an art he’d mastered as second footman of a fancy house back in the day, when he’d been sixteen years old and still a human. Also, theaters were more than happy to hire cheap workers, and not ask too much about papers that looked maybe a little false.
Sometimes, Kurt even liked the job. If the show was nice enough, the clothes he’d get his hands on would be elegant and dreamy, rather than gaudy and awful like the hats he was currently working on. It also afforded him the easiness of not having to relate too much to other workers, since stagehands tended to move a lot from show to show, and sometimes from the city to city. He was rather comforted by the thought that most of his coworkers wouldn’t remember him in a couple months, and wouldn’t stay long enough to notice anything strange about him.
Sebastian hated it, Kurt knew. When they’d met, he’d been working as a waiter in a dive near Brooklyn, which Kurt supposed afforded the same kind of anonymity that their current occupation did. It hadn’t stopped a pair of vampires from locating him, though, or from deciding to have a little fun with the little pup. God, but Kurt hated his own kind sometimes. Or, scratch that, most of the time. Whatever the case, Sebastian was now a backstage worker like himself, pushing props around for many hours a day.
“So,” Sebastian said suddenly. Kurt looked at him and then at the clock hanging from the wall in front of him; Sebastian had managed almost ten minutes of silence, and that was a record for him.
“So?” Kurt prodded.
Sebastian turned his face Kurt’s way, and blinked his eyes open. They were bright green and had a downturn to them that actually made him look like a kicked puppy. Kurt kind of loved them, not that he’d ever admit it out loud.
“What are we going to do about our new roommate?”
Kurt shrugged, and turned his attention back towards his sewing. “I don’t know, it’s not like I’m an expert of the supernatural. I’ve never met a ghost before.”
“Maybe we could exorcise her or something.”
“Really, Bas?” Kurt looked at him, one eyebrow raised.
Sebastian grinned, betraying his own amusement with the whole situation. “Follow the light, Rachel, follow the light!” he intoned, hand pushed forward dramatically. “It might work.”
Kurt snorted. “I don’t see how. And before you suggest it, we’re not bringing a priest into the house. Maybe we just need to help her cross over? Find out if there’s some unfinished business of some kind or…” Kurt trailed off, and then scowled at Sebastian when he noticed that he’d lost his attention.
Kurt followed Sebastian’s gaze, and spotted one of the latest additions to the show, a guy on his late twenties who laughed entirely too loud for Kurt’s taste, bent over a desk while writing something, his ass wiggling in the air to the rhythm of whatever was playing on his iPod.
“Ugh, stop being disgusting, Bas,” he said, continuing to work. He was never getting out of here at this rate.
Sebastian chuckled. “Just checking the new arrivals.” He laughed again when Kurt offered him an eye roll, and then leaned forward, pushing his elbows onto the desk Kurt was working on. “Anyway, I’ll have time to do that. I’m going out for a drink, are you almost done?”
Kurt pointed at the couple of unfinished hats on his desk. “I don’t think so,” he said. “And I’m going home anyway.”
“Aw, come on, Kurt, live a little.”
“If by living you mean watching you get drunk and hook up with a random stranger while drinking soda in some sticky bar, I think I’ll pass.”
Sebastian poked his cheek, and Kurt batted his hand away, annoyed.
“You could meet someone, too, you know? And-” Sebastian lifted a hand up in the air when Kurt opened his mouth, and before he had the chance to protest, he continued, “-before you tell me that you want romance and that it’s impossible what with your condition-”
“Ugh, don’t call it a condition. It sounds like I have an STD.”
“Not with that invisible chastity belt you’ve strapped on.”
Kurt glared at him, and Sebastian lifted his second hand in a sign of apology almost immediately. They’d had this discussion before, about what they wanted and the way they went about it, and whenever they tried to convince the other to change his ways it only ended up in angry yelling. The thing they both agreed on was the fact that they couldn’t possibly hope to have a true relationship, not when Kurt was permanently stuck at twenty-one, and when Sebastian turned into a wolf once a month. It was the rest that caused trouble: Kurt’s desire to be alone and Sebastian’s to sleep with everything that moved.
“Fine,” said Sebastian, always the first to backtrack. “Be like that. But just so you know, those guys from True Blood have lots of sex.”
“You didn’t just compare me to TV vampires.”
“Book vampires,” Sebastian said, a grin pulling at the sides of his mouth. “And one of them played by Alexander Skarsgård at that. I’d dig that comparison.”
“You would.” Kurt shook his head. “At least you didn’t go with Twilight.”
“I was so disappointed to learn that you don’t actually sparkle in the light.”
Kurt did laugh at that, clear and free. He hated Sebastian half the time, especially how much he made him laugh. “Just go,” he said finally. “I’ll finish here and go home.”
Sebastian pouted his way, lip jutted out exaggeratedly. “It won’t be the same without your grumpy little face throwing snarky comments at people’s choice of clothing.”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone to pass the time with.”
“Don’t be jealous, baby,” Sebastian said, a huge smile on his face. “I’ll still come home to you.”
Kurt threw a bitch, please look at Sebastian, and kicked him under the table for good measure. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” Sebastian replied, his eyes bright with mirth. “You can dance,” Sebastian intoned then, voice soft. He moved towards Kurt, singing right next to his ear, breath warm. “Every dance with the guy who gives you the eye,” Sebastian’s voice soared. Before Kurt knew what was happening, Sebastian was pulling him to his feet.
“Sebastian! What are you-”
“Let him hold you tight.” Sebastian waggled his eyebrows at Kurt while pulling him close and guiding him into a clumsy dance. Kurt was forced to laugh, and let himself be manhandled. “You can smile every smile for the man who held your hand beneath the pale moonlight.”
Sebastian spinned him, and Kurt went with it, his laughter not yet dead. Sebastian felt warm, and Kurt was always so cold that the closeness was entirely too tempting for him to reject.
“But don’t forget who’s taking you home and in whose arms you’re gonna be.”
Sebastian stopped, arms still around Kurt and eyes trained on his own. It was almost too much, Kurt thought, even as he didn’t manage to stop smiling.
“So darlin', save the last dance for me,” finished Sebastian, voice softer now.
“You’re completely ridiculous,” Kurt said.
“And now you wound me, princess,” said Sebastian, putting a hand to his chest. “See if I ever serenade you again.”
Kurt laughed one last time, before stepping back and away from Sebastian. He felt immediately cold.
“Have fun,” he said.
“I will.”
-o-o-o-o-
It was almost ten when Kurt arrived back home. He was tired, and his satchel felt heavy on his shoulder. Sometimes, he wished his vampirism resembled the kind of mythology some books used, and that he had energy, strength, or maybe even lacked the necessity to sleep. As it was, the only thing books seemed to get right was the thirst for blood. As for the rest, well, not so much. Kurt didn’t burn to ashes with the sun, even if it was mildly uncomfortable, he was cold all the time, he was stronger and faster than humans, but not by much, he liked garlic, didn’t turn his eyes at the sight of a cross, didn’t need an invitation to enter a house, and he most certainly didn´t sparkle. Ever.
As for the thirst itself… Kurt was living proof that survival without blood was actually possible. He felt weaker without it, definitely, but that was a better choice than killing innocents, a choice that made him a pariah among his own kind, but a choice nonetheless.
When Kurt walked into the apartment, he was surprised by a strong voice belting out a rather fantastic version of Don’t rain on my parade. Perched on top of the sofa, arms stretched out and face full of emotion, Rachel sang. It was so good that Kurt hated her a little. When she was finished with it, he clapped slowly.
“That was fantastic,” he admitted softly.
Rachel looked his way, surprised. Kurt wondered for a second if she had spent the past few months belting her heart out to people who couldn’t see her.
“Thank you,” she said, pushing her hair behind her shoulders in a gesture that Kurt was sure he was going to get used to. “I know. I was going to be a star.”
“Thank you would have been enough, sweetie.”
She huffed, but deflated quickly. While Kurt shut the door behind him, she sat down on the sofa and hugged her own legs. She was still wearing that same awful attire they had met her in.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just can’t leave, you know? I’ve tried, but I can’t go farther than that first step of the stairs outside.”
Kurt nodded while putting his satchel by the door. He took off his coat and scarf, but left his fingerless gloves on, and then he walked towards the sofa and sat down next to Rachel. She looked at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
“Where do you go when you… um, you know, go?”
“I don’t-I’m not really sure, and I don’t know if, and-ugh, I hate this. How much time was I gone?”
“Since last night,” Kurt answered.
“Oh, ok. It felt longer.”
“Right.” Kurt nodded, and then took a long breath and rubbed his hands together. “So, I’m really tired but I can’t go to bed this early. How do you feel about The way we were?”
“I always feel great about Barbra,” Rachel hastened to answer.
“Great. I think I’m going to like you, Rachel Berry.”
-o-o-o-o-
Sebastian got home at half past one to find Kurt’s eyes glued to a book. He was already clad in pajamas, looking much softer than he usually did in his layers of clothing, and curled like a small cat at the end of the couch.
“Isn’t it a little late, princess?”
“Bas!” Kurt exclaimed, scrambling out of his curled position and pushing his book somewhere in between himself and the sofa.
Sebastian laughed as he sat next to him, feeling suddenly heavy after the long night out. “You don’t need to hide your readings from me,” he said. “I know you’re obsessed with that terrible Fifty Shades trilogy.”
Kurt huffed, lifting his nose high up in the air. “I just like making fun of it.”
“Of course you do. But, if it’s BDSM you’re interested in, all you need to do is ask.” Sebastian sent him a wolfish grin, and Kurt just laughed at him.
“Don’t be a pig.” He poked Sebastian’s thigh with his sock covered toes, and took the book out from its hiding place. “And go take a shower, you smell of sex.”
“And that’s a bad smell?”
Kurt simply glared at him, and honestly, if he got a penny for every time he did, Sebastian would be rich by now.
“Have you seen our ghostly tenant?”
“Yes, she’s lying down,” Kurt said. “Apparently she doesn’t sleep, but she likes to pretend. There was a long explanation for that. I think she’s a little crazy, but at least she appreciates good movies.”
Sebastian groaned. “Not another musical lover.”
“We’re not going to discuss your taste in movies, Bas,” Kurt said, opening the book again and searching for the page he’d been at. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t even qualify as a taste.”
At another time of the day Sebastian might have argued. After all, riling Kurt up was one of his favorite activities. It was late, though, and he was incredibly tired. There were still ten days to go to the full moon, but he was already starting to feel his bones complaining, almost as if they were getting ready for the torture that was his monthly transformation.
“So, hey, Kurt,” he said, suddenly anxious to get rid of each and every thought related to his curse. “How good is that sense of smell of yours, really? I know you can spot a werewolf a mile away, but what else can you do?”
Kurt looked at him from behind his book, lowering it before sighing and closing it one more time. He left it on the small table they had in front of the TV, and said, “I can show you.”
Sebastian was momentarily surprised, since Kurt was never too keen on sharing anything about himself. Not his past, and most certainly not his vampirism. The surprise didn’t end there, but was rather renewed when Kurt unfolded himself and crawled towards Sebastian’s end of the couch. His eyes were focused and bright in the dim light of the room, and his limbs looked suddenly spry and graceful. He looked every inch the predator. Sometimes, in between the banter, the clothes and the general bitchiness, Sebastian forgot exactly what Kurt was and how dangerous he could be.
Sebastian inhaled loudly when Kurt pressed his face to his neck, the tip of his nose lightly caressing his collarbone, and then climbing up to the back of his ear.
“You’ve been drinking gin tonight,” Kurt whispered then, right against the shell of his ear. “And you took a walk through some park before coming home. You also had sex with a bleached blonde.”
When Kurt moved back, it felt as if the air came back to Sebastian. He breathed slowly, and after a few moments managed to look back at Kurt. “Ok, right. That’s… yeah.”
Kurt went back to his side of the sofa, and grabbed his book again. Sebastian felt hot all over.
“I think I’ll go take that shower now,” he said.
-o-o-o-o-
A couple of days later, Sebastian entered the kitchen to find Rachel staring intently at an empty cup. This would have been weird, if only it wasn’t starting to become a common sight.
“No luck yet, ghost Barbra?” he wondered around a yawn.
“Shh,” Kurt admonished from where he was drinking his morning coffee. And really, he’d never get his head around the fact that vampires ate regular food. “Don’t break her concentration.”
Sebastian just rolled his eyes, happy to ignore them both in favor of making himself some breakfast. He was feeling particularly ravenous, and he wouldn’t be stopped by a ghost girl trying to find her mojo and be able to touch objects.
“Shouldn’t you be trying to, you know, die?” he asked, not looking at her but at the insides of the fridge. “I mean for real. Cross to the other side, or whatever.”
“Sebastian!” Kurt admonished harshly. The tone alone made him turn around to look at a nearly crying Rachel.
“Oh, come on, you’re not going to cry, are you?”
That seemed to be enough to send her out of the room in a flurry, ugly plaid skirt flying at her quick turn. When he looked at Kurt, he found a reproaching look in his light eyes.
“Really, Sebastian?” Kurt asked. The use of his full name was enough to know that Kurt was pissed. “A little sensitivity wouldn’t kill you.”
“Oh, great, so you’ve bonded with the poltergeist,” he mocked, raising his hands into the air. “I don’t remember anything in the contract about putting up with a ghost.”
“Really, you should-”
“What, encourage her to become a freaking horror movie cliché? She should be dead, really dead, not suffering in some middle plane where she can’t even touch a stupid cup!”
“And somehow you reminding her of that is going to help?” Kurt stood up, walking closer towards him. His body language was closed off and menacing. “You’ve been nothing but plain mean to her.”
“You know me,” Sebastian snorted. “It’s my best quality.”
“Honestly, Sebastian, I know the full moon is close and that-”
“Don’t fucking twist this around on me, Hummel!” he snapped. It was a curse, but it wasn’t uncontrollable, and Sebastian hated it when Kurt used it against him. “It has nothing to do with that.”
“Bas, please.”
Sebastian felt Kurt’s hand on his own, long fingers smooth and cold. It was only then that he realized that his own fingers were wrapped around Kurt’s arms, holding him in place and pressing hard. Had Kurt not been a vampire, he would have caused bruises. He let go almost immediately, taking a step back and trying to breath slowly.
“Bas-”
“I’m going out.”
“You don’t have to leave.”
“I-I kinda do,” Sebastian said, looking down at the floor instead of at Kurt. “I think I’ll go run. Yeah, that sounds good.”
-o-o-o-o-
Sebastian ran for an hour, fast and hard, too afraid to stop and think. Eventually, though, tiredness got him, and he slowed his pace and started walking. He’d made his way to Central Park, and found himself surrounded by trees, grass, and loud families spending their Saturday morning outside. He felt liberated after stretching his muscles, tired in the best of ways.
The days before the full moon were always bad, enough that Kurt mocked him for his PMS in an attempt to make light of it. Sebastian always found himself being angry at everything and everybody. He was also hornier and jumpier, and his impulses were much harder to control. He called it the wolf, as if separating himself from his transformation made it easier. He knew, intellectually, that he wasn’t possessed, that there was no real difference between himself and the animal he became once a month, but he needed the division to survive.
He’d tried controlling it, once. He’d been seventeen years old, had been a werewolf for only three months, and had found that if he concentrated enough, he could stop the transformation. It took effort, and it hurt almost as much as turning did, but at least he could be human all the time. Except that controlling the wolf only made the human moodier, angrier, scarier. The month he’d spent without turning, he’d yelled at every person he knew, he’d gotten into three fights, and had nearly killed a boy during the last one. The memory of blood on his hands was never far from his mind.
Kurt always got angry when he called it a curse, or when he referred of himself as a monster. Sebastian knew he hated the thought that they were something other than human, but he could only think of this thing he was as unnatural.
Sebastian had gotten good at dealing with it, though. He gave into his more basic instincts in any way he could, running for hours and fucking every stranger that caught his eye. It stopped his restlessness, and what was wrong with enjoying some exercise and a good fuck? Except, of course, that it never seemed to be enough.
This morning he’d lost it, and it wasn’t the first time. Usually it came out in the form of too rough sex, but sometimes the anger consumed him more easily. And Kurt. God, Kurt. He brought out the worst in him. He always spent the days before the full moon in between wanting to rip him to pieces and wanting to fuck him against the nearest available surface. The other night, when he’d pressed his nose close to his neck, Sebastian had almost snapped. Today, he definitely had.
Sebastian walked back into the apartment with heavy steps. He was tired and his limbs hurt from the exercise and the closeness of the full moon, but he knew he needed to apologize before he could shower and sleep for the whole day. It was going to be like pulling teeth.
He found Rachel alone in the living room, looking at the TV despite the fact that it was turned off.
“Are you alone?” he asked.
“Kurt left to buy some juice,” she said, not looking at him. After a beat, she whispered, “I can’t turn the TV on.”
“Oh.” Sebastian grabbed the remote and turned it on. The room was suddenly filled with the sound of whatever show was on, and Rachel smiled a little.
“Thanks,” she said.
Sebastian considered leaving her to it for a moment, but the truth was that it seemed like she was going to be a permanent tenant, and he could hardly avoid her forever. Besides, if he didn’t apologize Kurt was going to kill him. With a heavy sigh, he sat next to her on the couch.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She looked at him then, narrowing her eyes. “Wow, that actually hurt you physically, didn’t it?”
“You have no idea, Casper.”
“Rachel,” she said, scowling his way. “My name is Rachel Berry.”
“How about ghost Barbra?” he offered.
She seemed to consider it for a second, and then shrugged. “That actually works for me.”
Sebastian fought a small laugh, and instead settled back on the couch. He was sweaty and sticky, and Kurt was going to throw a fit the moment he found him like that on the sofa, but he couldn’t bring himself to move just yet. God, but he was tired.
After a few minutes of his eyes glossing over whatever was on the TV, Rachel began speaking again.
“Kurt told me about your… problem.”
Sebastian flinched involuntarily. “Did he tell you about his?”
“Yes, of course,” she nodded. “He wouldn’t answer any questions, though. Like, why does he eat normal food?
And does he sparkle? Because he goes out into the sun.”
Sebastian snorted, and soon the sound turned into a full laugh. “Don’t ask him that, he’ll throw a fit.”
“Well, he kept asking about me,” she said. “It’s only fair.”
“Yeah? And what’s your story, Barbra?”
She shook her head, looking back at the TV. There was something pained in her expression, and Sebastian felt suddenly sympathetic and truly sorry for whatever comment he’d made that morning and the last couple of days. Somehow, being a ghost seemed worse than craving blood or turning into a wolf once a month.
“I just,” she started. “I was going to be such a big star.”
Sebastian snorted. God, this girl.
“Oh, hey, hey,” he said when she looked at her again, lifting both hands in front of him. Her eyes were shiny and huge, and she looked like a sad little lamb. “Please don’t cry. I’m terrible with crying people.”
She sniffled, looking down. No tears fell down her cheeks, though.
“Ok,” she said. “But I’m going to hug you now.”
Sebastian groaned. “Is that really necessary?”
“Yes.”
He groaned again, just to put emphasis on his annoyance. “Fine. But just so you know, I’m completely against it and it will never happen again. I don’t hug. Specially people with boobs.”
-o-o-o-o-
Kurt came home to Sebastian and Rachel seating in front of the TV and arguing over an episode of Sex and The City. Sebastian was freshly showered, and he could smell the soap all the way from the door, where the scent hit him strongly. Sometimes he really hated his heightened senses, and whoever had been stupid enough to say that werewolves smelled something other than delicious.
“Come on, ghost girl,” Sebastian was saying. “He promised nothing, and the woman is just being needy and annoying. If she claims she can have meaningless sex, she needs to back it up.”
“God, you’re such a guy,” Rachel answered.
“It didn’t take you too long to discover his true nature, then,” Kurt piped up. When he walked towards the shared sofa, he received a set of twin smiles for his troubles. It was sort of unnerving. “Make room for me,” he demanded.
He sat on the space Rachel liberated next to her and in the middle of the sofa. Almost immediately she cuddled against him, leaning her head on his shoulder. On his other side, Sebastian squeezed his hand and mouthed I’m sorry. In that moment, everything seemed to be right in the world.
---------------------------
Chapter 2
Characters/Pairings: Kurt/Sebastian, Rachel (mentioned past Kurt/Blaine, Rachel/Jesse)
Rating: eventual NC-17
Word Count: aprox. 6200
Summary: Being Human!AU. Sebastian is a werewolf, Kurt is a vampire and Rachel is a ghost. Together, they are sort of like a family.
EACH UNHAPPY FAMILY
Prologue
Chapter 1
It was early September and the weather was still warm. Kurt basked in the sun, even when it burnt a little on his too pale skin. He felt cold - he always felt cold - so it was nice to let the sun reach what little skin his outfit was showing. People always looked at him during the summer, when he walked around the city covered in layers and wearing fingerless gloves, but at least he could pass his clothing habits as fashion choices.
“Are you done staring into space, princess? There’s a gazillion boxes to carry and most of them are yours.”
Kurt looked at Sebastian, his arms holding what looked like a heavy box, his features schooled into a frown.
“You keep insisting I’m the girl in this relationship,” Kurt replied. “Therefore, you get to do all the heavy lifting.”
Sebastian snorted, sticking his tongue out at him before continuing a slow walk towards the apartment, heavy box still in his arms.
“Really mature!” Kurt exclaimed behind him.
“Well, if you two are almost ready,” said a voice next to Kurt, “I’ll just leave the keys with you and go.”
Kurt turned to look at Jesse, their new landlord. He was looking half bored and half expectant, holding a set of keys Kurt’s way. Kurt took them and looked back at the apartment building where Sebastian had just gone into carrying one of the boxes.
Their latest apartment, a little shoe box which only good attribute had been being in Manhattan, had sadly been sold to a couple of newlyweds just last month, forcing Kurt and Sebastian to look for a new place to stay in the city. They had almost lost their feet walking around in the search of a place that wasn’t infested by cockroaches, didn’t have a weird smell and had actual walls in it. Somehow, they had stumbled upon a bargain offered by the same man that had just given Kurt the keys: a fairly decent apartment in Soho at an entirely too cheap renting price.
“Can I ask you something?” Kurt asked, turning back towards Jesse, who was combing his hair back in a gesture that brought to mind Danny Zuko. Kurt looked at him, tilting his head to the side, and pictured him starring in a Grease revival.
Jesse looked up, letting his hand fall back down. “Sure,” he shrugged.
“Why is this place so cheap? Really. There has to be something wrong with it. You can tell me, we’ve already paid the first three months.”
Jesse’s hand went back to his hair almost immediately. “Look, I just want to rent it fast, alright? This place is filled with bad memories for me, and I can’t deal with the melancholia.” Jesse looked forward then, away from Kurt and to the horizon in a way that resembled a Greek character at his most tragic.
Huh, Kurt thought, maybe not Grease, then. This guy was meant for drama.
“Anyway,” Jesse shook his head. “Is it alright if I leave you two to it, then?”
“Sure, of course.”
Kurt waved goodbye awkwardly, looking back at the pile of suitcases that they still had left to carry into their new apartment. Sebastian had been exaggerating, of course; there was almost nothing left. With a tired roll of his shoulders, Kurt piled one of the smallest suitcases on top of the other, and a little unsteadily made his way inside the building, making sure there was nothing left behind on the street.
During the elevator ride, he blinked his eyes several times, already regretting spending too much time out in the sun. No matter how much he reveled in the warmth, and how grateful he was that the whole burning in the sun thing wasn’t actually true, his eyes and skin were still sensitive to the light. And he was still cold.
Before reaching the apartment, he heard a voice coming from inside it, and rolled his eyes at the idea that Sebastian had already managed to charm a neighbor into their house. Honestly, the man had been left alone for five minutes. He went through the open door, uncomfortably carrying three suitcases and ready to grumble at the excessive work, when he caught sight of Sebastian, still holding a box between his arms and staring at something in front of him with wide eyes. Said something was nothing but a girl their age clad in the most horrendous sweater Kurt had ever seen and ranting as if she were invisible.
“-and I will make the walls bleed, I swear,” she was saying, her eyes crazy looking and her pointed finger a silent threat. “He can’t rent this place just like that. This was supposed to be our place, the one we came back to when we were rich and famous and looked upon with deep nostalgia for the simpler days. I was going to win my first Tony while living here!” She stopped her rant, and Kurt flinched when she looked their way. Then, she kept going, “I will learn how to move things, and make noises and you two will be so scared by the time I’m done that you will never-”
“Kurt,” Sebastian whispered, his mouth twisted and his eyes still fixated on the girl.
“Yes, Bas?”
“There’s a crazy girl in our apartment.”
“I can see that.”
“-and Barbra movies on constant replay on your TV, and-Wait, you can see me?”
Kurt blinked her way, his mouth slightly parted in surprise at finally being acknowledged. “… Of course?” he answered, unsure what the right thing to say was.
“Oh my God,” she said. “Oh my God.” The screech that followed was almost inhuman, and Kurt would have been worried for his eardrums had he not been more so about the girl jumping his way and putting her arms around his waist in an awkward hug.
“Oh my God,” she said again. “You can touch me too!” There was a second squeal of joy, and when Kurt looked at Sebastian for help, he found him snickering, box still in his arms. Kurt scowled at him.
Kurt looked down towards the girl, putting his hands on her shoulders and patting them gently. She was tiny, and she looked harmless enough, but one could never honestly tell, so Kurt was cautious when he pushed her away a little bit, enough to look into her dark, big eyes. He tried for a small, reassuring smile.
“Why exactly shouldn’t we be able to see you?” Kurt asked. “Or touch you?”
“Because I’m dead, of course,” she answered, as if Kurt was being obtuse.
“Of course,” Sebastian parroted behind her. “How didn’t we see that one coming?”
Kurt glared at him while the girl finally released him and took a couple of steps back. She cleared her throat, flipped her dark hair behind her shoulder and straightened her clothes, a plaid yellow skirt and a burgundy sweater with a white reindeer on it, both ugly to the point of being offensive.
“I’m Rachel Berry,” she said, extending her hand towards Kurt. “I was going to be a Broadway star, but a tragic death at the age of twenty-two cut my dreams short. Obviously, my talent was not to be wasted, so I have been brought back as a ghost with some undetermined purpose as of yet. But a magnificent one, I bet.”
Kurt was dumbfounded. He blinked once more her way, before finally managing a reaction and grabbing her hand in a soft shake.
“Kurt Hummel,” he offered quietly. He thought that the girl - Rachel - could easily be mad, but then again, he wouldn’t be surprised if she were telling the truth. Hell, he was dead himself, if one were to get down to it.
“And you’re haunting our apartment?” Sebastian asked from the other side of the room. He had finally put the box down, and now was taking the couple of steps that separated him from Kurt. He stood by his side, a warmth, solid presence.
“My apartment!” Rachel protested.
“That’s not what it says on the lease, Casper.”
She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and kicking the floor. She looked like a five year old ready to throw a tantrum, and of course, Sebastian would manage to piss off the ghost. Kurt elbowed him softly, sending another glare his way.
“What?” he complained. “It’s true.” He turned Rachel’s way then, and he looked almost like a giant next to her, his tall frame dwarfing her shorter one. It didn’t seem to have any effect on Rachel, who stood her ground with a glare of her own.
“Well, consider your apartment officially haunted, then,” she said.
“Or, you could follow the light and get lost,” Sebastian countered, pushing her shoulder slightly with a couple of fingers. Rachel’s expression changed quickly, and then she was squealing again.
“You can touch me, too!” she exclaimed.
“Wait, don’t-“before Sebastian had finished, she was already wrapped around his waist, “- hug me.”
Sebastian sighed, and this time Kurt was the one snickering. It was a funny picture, with her being so tiny and him so tall, and Kurt would have called them adorable if only he didn’t know that would earn him Sebastian’s wrath.
“This girl isn’t a ghost,” Sebastian said. “She’s just crazy.” Still, he did nothing to push her away, and it was her who took a step back and looked up.
“I am, I swear. You two are the first people who have seen me. Definitely the first two I’ve been able to touch.”
Sebastian threw an exasperated look Kurt’s way, which then turned questioning. He might have been inclined to go with Sebastian’s theory, except that Rachel smelled of absolutely nothing. Everyone had a particular scent, even humans, supernatural creatures like Sebastian and himself even more so, but not Rachel.
“So, uh…” Kurt started. “Did you die in the apartment?”
“Not exactly,” she said, stepping away from Sebastian and walking to the still open door. “I was there, actually,” she pointed at the hallway.
“The stairs?”
“Yes,” she nodded, walking towards them and stopping at the edge. “I don’t really remember, but I heard Jesse telling my dads. I guess-I guess I just-”
Kurt heart sniffling coming from her, and his non-beating heart cried a little for her. He wanted to go to her and offer some comfort, but her eyes were firmly set on the stairs, as if they were a big old enemy.
“I don’t get it,” she continued. “How could I have been that clumsy?” She made as if to take a step forward, and let one of her feet hang in the air.
Kurt wanted to stop her for some reason, but he didn’t. She finally placed her foot on the first step, and when she did, she looked their way and mouthed an oh, before banishing into thin air. Kurt gasped, and looked back at Sebastian.
“So we have a ghost,” Sebastian said. “Fun.”
-o-o-o-o-
“I’m so done with this day,” Sebastian said, biting a sigh as he sat next to Kurt. He threw his head back on the chair, and closed his eyes.
Kurt was happy to ignore him and continue his work. Sewing hats - ugly, awful hats at that - had to be the most boring activity in the world, but the faster Kurt finished, the earlier he would go home.
Being a stagehand wasn’t a dream job, but it gave them both exactly what they needed: anonymity. Kurt had actually been working as one when he had met Sebastian a couple of years ago, and had already discovered that the job offered what he was looking for. It wasn’t easy for a vampire to move in the world, not when his real ID would show that he was 117 years old, and had no real formation of any kind. Kurt could sew, though, an art he’d mastered as second footman of a fancy house back in the day, when he’d been sixteen years old and still a human. Also, theaters were more than happy to hire cheap workers, and not ask too much about papers that looked maybe a little false.
Sometimes, Kurt even liked the job. If the show was nice enough, the clothes he’d get his hands on would be elegant and dreamy, rather than gaudy and awful like the hats he was currently working on. It also afforded him the easiness of not having to relate too much to other workers, since stagehands tended to move a lot from show to show, and sometimes from the city to city. He was rather comforted by the thought that most of his coworkers wouldn’t remember him in a couple months, and wouldn’t stay long enough to notice anything strange about him.
Sebastian hated it, Kurt knew. When they’d met, he’d been working as a waiter in a dive near Brooklyn, which Kurt supposed afforded the same kind of anonymity that their current occupation did. It hadn’t stopped a pair of vampires from locating him, though, or from deciding to have a little fun with the little pup. God, but Kurt hated his own kind sometimes. Or, scratch that, most of the time. Whatever the case, Sebastian was now a backstage worker like himself, pushing props around for many hours a day.
“So,” Sebastian said suddenly. Kurt looked at him and then at the clock hanging from the wall in front of him; Sebastian had managed almost ten minutes of silence, and that was a record for him.
“So?” Kurt prodded.
Sebastian turned his face Kurt’s way, and blinked his eyes open. They were bright green and had a downturn to them that actually made him look like a kicked puppy. Kurt kind of loved them, not that he’d ever admit it out loud.
“What are we going to do about our new roommate?”
Kurt shrugged, and turned his attention back towards his sewing. “I don’t know, it’s not like I’m an expert of the supernatural. I’ve never met a ghost before.”
“Maybe we could exorcise her or something.”
“Really, Bas?” Kurt looked at him, one eyebrow raised.
Sebastian grinned, betraying his own amusement with the whole situation. “Follow the light, Rachel, follow the light!” he intoned, hand pushed forward dramatically. “It might work.”
Kurt snorted. “I don’t see how. And before you suggest it, we’re not bringing a priest into the house. Maybe we just need to help her cross over? Find out if there’s some unfinished business of some kind or…” Kurt trailed off, and then scowled at Sebastian when he noticed that he’d lost his attention.
Kurt followed Sebastian’s gaze, and spotted one of the latest additions to the show, a guy on his late twenties who laughed entirely too loud for Kurt’s taste, bent over a desk while writing something, his ass wiggling in the air to the rhythm of whatever was playing on his iPod.
“Ugh, stop being disgusting, Bas,” he said, continuing to work. He was never getting out of here at this rate.
Sebastian chuckled. “Just checking the new arrivals.” He laughed again when Kurt offered him an eye roll, and then leaned forward, pushing his elbows onto the desk Kurt was working on. “Anyway, I’ll have time to do that. I’m going out for a drink, are you almost done?”
Kurt pointed at the couple of unfinished hats on his desk. “I don’t think so,” he said. “And I’m going home anyway.”
“Aw, come on, Kurt, live a little.”
“If by living you mean watching you get drunk and hook up with a random stranger while drinking soda in some sticky bar, I think I’ll pass.”
Sebastian poked his cheek, and Kurt batted his hand away, annoyed.
“You could meet someone, too, you know? And-” Sebastian lifted a hand up in the air when Kurt opened his mouth, and before he had the chance to protest, he continued, “-before you tell me that you want romance and that it’s impossible what with your condition-”
“Ugh, don’t call it a condition. It sounds like I have an STD.”
“Not with that invisible chastity belt you’ve strapped on.”
Kurt glared at him, and Sebastian lifted his second hand in a sign of apology almost immediately. They’d had this discussion before, about what they wanted and the way they went about it, and whenever they tried to convince the other to change his ways it only ended up in angry yelling. The thing they both agreed on was the fact that they couldn’t possibly hope to have a true relationship, not when Kurt was permanently stuck at twenty-one, and when Sebastian turned into a wolf once a month. It was the rest that caused trouble: Kurt’s desire to be alone and Sebastian’s to sleep with everything that moved.
“Fine,” said Sebastian, always the first to backtrack. “Be like that. But just so you know, those guys from True Blood have lots of sex.”
“You didn’t just compare me to TV vampires.”
“Book vampires,” Sebastian said, a grin pulling at the sides of his mouth. “And one of them played by Alexander Skarsgård at that. I’d dig that comparison.”
“You would.” Kurt shook his head. “At least you didn’t go with Twilight.”
“I was so disappointed to learn that you don’t actually sparkle in the light.”
Kurt did laugh at that, clear and free. He hated Sebastian half the time, especially how much he made him laugh. “Just go,” he said finally. “I’ll finish here and go home.”
Sebastian pouted his way, lip jutted out exaggeratedly. “It won’t be the same without your grumpy little face throwing snarky comments at people’s choice of clothing.”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone to pass the time with.”
“Don’t be jealous, baby,” Sebastian said, a huge smile on his face. “I’ll still come home to you.”
Kurt threw a bitch, please look at Sebastian, and kicked him under the table for good measure. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” Sebastian replied, his eyes bright with mirth. “You can dance,” Sebastian intoned then, voice soft. He moved towards Kurt, singing right next to his ear, breath warm. “Every dance with the guy who gives you the eye,” Sebastian’s voice soared. Before Kurt knew what was happening, Sebastian was pulling him to his feet.
“Sebastian! What are you-”
“Let him hold you tight.” Sebastian waggled his eyebrows at Kurt while pulling him close and guiding him into a clumsy dance. Kurt was forced to laugh, and let himself be manhandled. “You can smile every smile for the man who held your hand beneath the pale moonlight.”
Sebastian spinned him, and Kurt went with it, his laughter not yet dead. Sebastian felt warm, and Kurt was always so cold that the closeness was entirely too tempting for him to reject.
“But don’t forget who’s taking you home and in whose arms you’re gonna be.”
Sebastian stopped, arms still around Kurt and eyes trained on his own. It was almost too much, Kurt thought, even as he didn’t manage to stop smiling.
“So darlin', save the last dance for me,” finished Sebastian, voice softer now.
“You’re completely ridiculous,” Kurt said.
“And now you wound me, princess,” said Sebastian, putting a hand to his chest. “See if I ever serenade you again.”
Kurt laughed one last time, before stepping back and away from Sebastian. He felt immediately cold.
“Have fun,” he said.
“I will.”
-o-o-o-o-
It was almost ten when Kurt arrived back home. He was tired, and his satchel felt heavy on his shoulder. Sometimes, he wished his vampirism resembled the kind of mythology some books used, and that he had energy, strength, or maybe even lacked the necessity to sleep. As it was, the only thing books seemed to get right was the thirst for blood. As for the rest, well, not so much. Kurt didn’t burn to ashes with the sun, even if it was mildly uncomfortable, he was cold all the time, he was stronger and faster than humans, but not by much, he liked garlic, didn’t turn his eyes at the sight of a cross, didn’t need an invitation to enter a house, and he most certainly didn´t sparkle. Ever.
As for the thirst itself… Kurt was living proof that survival without blood was actually possible. He felt weaker without it, definitely, but that was a better choice than killing innocents, a choice that made him a pariah among his own kind, but a choice nonetheless.
When Kurt walked into the apartment, he was surprised by a strong voice belting out a rather fantastic version of Don’t rain on my parade. Perched on top of the sofa, arms stretched out and face full of emotion, Rachel sang. It was so good that Kurt hated her a little. When she was finished with it, he clapped slowly.
“That was fantastic,” he admitted softly.
Rachel looked his way, surprised. Kurt wondered for a second if she had spent the past few months belting her heart out to people who couldn’t see her.
“Thank you,” she said, pushing her hair behind her shoulders in a gesture that Kurt was sure he was going to get used to. “I know. I was going to be a star.”
“Thank you would have been enough, sweetie.”
She huffed, but deflated quickly. While Kurt shut the door behind him, she sat down on the sofa and hugged her own legs. She was still wearing that same awful attire they had met her in.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just can’t leave, you know? I’ve tried, but I can’t go farther than that first step of the stairs outside.”
Kurt nodded while putting his satchel by the door. He took off his coat and scarf, but left his fingerless gloves on, and then he walked towards the sofa and sat down next to Rachel. She looked at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
“Where do you go when you… um, you know, go?”
“I don’t-I’m not really sure, and I don’t know if, and-ugh, I hate this. How much time was I gone?”
“Since last night,” Kurt answered.
“Oh, ok. It felt longer.”
“Right.” Kurt nodded, and then took a long breath and rubbed his hands together. “So, I’m really tired but I can’t go to bed this early. How do you feel about The way we were?”
“I always feel great about Barbra,” Rachel hastened to answer.
“Great. I think I’m going to like you, Rachel Berry.”
-o-o-o-o-
Sebastian got home at half past one to find Kurt’s eyes glued to a book. He was already clad in pajamas, looking much softer than he usually did in his layers of clothing, and curled like a small cat at the end of the couch.
“Isn’t it a little late, princess?”
“Bas!” Kurt exclaimed, scrambling out of his curled position and pushing his book somewhere in between himself and the sofa.
Sebastian laughed as he sat next to him, feeling suddenly heavy after the long night out. “You don’t need to hide your readings from me,” he said. “I know you’re obsessed with that terrible Fifty Shades trilogy.”
Kurt huffed, lifting his nose high up in the air. “I just like making fun of it.”
“Of course you do. But, if it’s BDSM you’re interested in, all you need to do is ask.” Sebastian sent him a wolfish grin, and Kurt just laughed at him.
“Don’t be a pig.” He poked Sebastian’s thigh with his sock covered toes, and took the book out from its hiding place. “And go take a shower, you smell of sex.”
“And that’s a bad smell?”
Kurt simply glared at him, and honestly, if he got a penny for every time he did, Sebastian would be rich by now.
“Have you seen our ghostly tenant?”
“Yes, she’s lying down,” Kurt said. “Apparently she doesn’t sleep, but she likes to pretend. There was a long explanation for that. I think she’s a little crazy, but at least she appreciates good movies.”
Sebastian groaned. “Not another musical lover.”
“We’re not going to discuss your taste in movies, Bas,” Kurt said, opening the book again and searching for the page he’d been at. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t even qualify as a taste.”
At another time of the day Sebastian might have argued. After all, riling Kurt up was one of his favorite activities. It was late, though, and he was incredibly tired. There were still ten days to go to the full moon, but he was already starting to feel his bones complaining, almost as if they were getting ready for the torture that was his monthly transformation.
“So, hey, Kurt,” he said, suddenly anxious to get rid of each and every thought related to his curse. “How good is that sense of smell of yours, really? I know you can spot a werewolf a mile away, but what else can you do?”
Kurt looked at him from behind his book, lowering it before sighing and closing it one more time. He left it on the small table they had in front of the TV, and said, “I can show you.”
Sebastian was momentarily surprised, since Kurt was never too keen on sharing anything about himself. Not his past, and most certainly not his vampirism. The surprise didn’t end there, but was rather renewed when Kurt unfolded himself and crawled towards Sebastian’s end of the couch. His eyes were focused and bright in the dim light of the room, and his limbs looked suddenly spry and graceful. He looked every inch the predator. Sometimes, in between the banter, the clothes and the general bitchiness, Sebastian forgot exactly what Kurt was and how dangerous he could be.
Sebastian inhaled loudly when Kurt pressed his face to his neck, the tip of his nose lightly caressing his collarbone, and then climbing up to the back of his ear.
“You’ve been drinking gin tonight,” Kurt whispered then, right against the shell of his ear. “And you took a walk through some park before coming home. You also had sex with a bleached blonde.”
When Kurt moved back, it felt as if the air came back to Sebastian. He breathed slowly, and after a few moments managed to look back at Kurt. “Ok, right. That’s… yeah.”
Kurt went back to his side of the sofa, and grabbed his book again. Sebastian felt hot all over.
“I think I’ll go take that shower now,” he said.
-o-o-o-o-
A couple of days later, Sebastian entered the kitchen to find Rachel staring intently at an empty cup. This would have been weird, if only it wasn’t starting to become a common sight.
“No luck yet, ghost Barbra?” he wondered around a yawn.
“Shh,” Kurt admonished from where he was drinking his morning coffee. And really, he’d never get his head around the fact that vampires ate regular food. “Don’t break her concentration.”
Sebastian just rolled his eyes, happy to ignore them both in favor of making himself some breakfast. He was feeling particularly ravenous, and he wouldn’t be stopped by a ghost girl trying to find her mojo and be able to touch objects.
“Shouldn’t you be trying to, you know, die?” he asked, not looking at her but at the insides of the fridge. “I mean for real. Cross to the other side, or whatever.”
“Sebastian!” Kurt admonished harshly. The tone alone made him turn around to look at a nearly crying Rachel.
“Oh, come on, you’re not going to cry, are you?”
That seemed to be enough to send her out of the room in a flurry, ugly plaid skirt flying at her quick turn. When he looked at Kurt, he found a reproaching look in his light eyes.
“Really, Sebastian?” Kurt asked. The use of his full name was enough to know that Kurt was pissed. “A little sensitivity wouldn’t kill you.”
“Oh, great, so you’ve bonded with the poltergeist,” he mocked, raising his hands into the air. “I don’t remember anything in the contract about putting up with a ghost.”
“Really, you should-”
“What, encourage her to become a freaking horror movie cliché? She should be dead, really dead, not suffering in some middle plane where she can’t even touch a stupid cup!”
“And somehow you reminding her of that is going to help?” Kurt stood up, walking closer towards him. His body language was closed off and menacing. “You’ve been nothing but plain mean to her.”
“You know me,” Sebastian snorted. “It’s my best quality.”
“Honestly, Sebastian, I know the full moon is close and that-”
“Don’t fucking twist this around on me, Hummel!” he snapped. It was a curse, but it wasn’t uncontrollable, and Sebastian hated it when Kurt used it against him. “It has nothing to do with that.”
“Bas, please.”
Sebastian felt Kurt’s hand on his own, long fingers smooth and cold. It was only then that he realized that his own fingers were wrapped around Kurt’s arms, holding him in place and pressing hard. Had Kurt not been a vampire, he would have caused bruises. He let go almost immediately, taking a step back and trying to breath slowly.
“Bas-”
“I’m going out.”
“You don’t have to leave.”
“I-I kinda do,” Sebastian said, looking down at the floor instead of at Kurt. “I think I’ll go run. Yeah, that sounds good.”
-o-o-o-o-
Sebastian ran for an hour, fast and hard, too afraid to stop and think. Eventually, though, tiredness got him, and he slowed his pace and started walking. He’d made his way to Central Park, and found himself surrounded by trees, grass, and loud families spending their Saturday morning outside. He felt liberated after stretching his muscles, tired in the best of ways.
The days before the full moon were always bad, enough that Kurt mocked him for his PMS in an attempt to make light of it. Sebastian always found himself being angry at everything and everybody. He was also hornier and jumpier, and his impulses were much harder to control. He called it the wolf, as if separating himself from his transformation made it easier. He knew, intellectually, that he wasn’t possessed, that there was no real difference between himself and the animal he became once a month, but he needed the division to survive.
He’d tried controlling it, once. He’d been seventeen years old, had been a werewolf for only three months, and had found that if he concentrated enough, he could stop the transformation. It took effort, and it hurt almost as much as turning did, but at least he could be human all the time. Except that controlling the wolf only made the human moodier, angrier, scarier. The month he’d spent without turning, he’d yelled at every person he knew, he’d gotten into three fights, and had nearly killed a boy during the last one. The memory of blood on his hands was never far from his mind.
Kurt always got angry when he called it a curse, or when he referred of himself as a monster. Sebastian knew he hated the thought that they were something other than human, but he could only think of this thing he was as unnatural.
Sebastian had gotten good at dealing with it, though. He gave into his more basic instincts in any way he could, running for hours and fucking every stranger that caught his eye. It stopped his restlessness, and what was wrong with enjoying some exercise and a good fuck? Except, of course, that it never seemed to be enough.
This morning he’d lost it, and it wasn’t the first time. Usually it came out in the form of too rough sex, but sometimes the anger consumed him more easily. And Kurt. God, Kurt. He brought out the worst in him. He always spent the days before the full moon in between wanting to rip him to pieces and wanting to fuck him against the nearest available surface. The other night, when he’d pressed his nose close to his neck, Sebastian had almost snapped. Today, he definitely had.
Sebastian walked back into the apartment with heavy steps. He was tired and his limbs hurt from the exercise and the closeness of the full moon, but he knew he needed to apologize before he could shower and sleep for the whole day. It was going to be like pulling teeth.
He found Rachel alone in the living room, looking at the TV despite the fact that it was turned off.
“Are you alone?” he asked.
“Kurt left to buy some juice,” she said, not looking at him. After a beat, she whispered, “I can’t turn the TV on.”
“Oh.” Sebastian grabbed the remote and turned it on. The room was suddenly filled with the sound of whatever show was on, and Rachel smiled a little.
“Thanks,” she said.
Sebastian considered leaving her to it for a moment, but the truth was that it seemed like she was going to be a permanent tenant, and he could hardly avoid her forever. Besides, if he didn’t apologize Kurt was going to kill him. With a heavy sigh, he sat next to her on the couch.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She looked at him then, narrowing her eyes. “Wow, that actually hurt you physically, didn’t it?”
“You have no idea, Casper.”
“Rachel,” she said, scowling his way. “My name is Rachel Berry.”
“How about ghost Barbra?” he offered.
She seemed to consider it for a second, and then shrugged. “That actually works for me.”
Sebastian fought a small laugh, and instead settled back on the couch. He was sweaty and sticky, and Kurt was going to throw a fit the moment he found him like that on the sofa, but he couldn’t bring himself to move just yet. God, but he was tired.
After a few minutes of his eyes glossing over whatever was on the TV, Rachel began speaking again.
“Kurt told me about your… problem.”
Sebastian flinched involuntarily. “Did he tell you about his?”
“Yes, of course,” she nodded. “He wouldn’t answer any questions, though. Like, why does he eat normal food?
And does he sparkle? Because he goes out into the sun.”
Sebastian snorted, and soon the sound turned into a full laugh. “Don’t ask him that, he’ll throw a fit.”
“Well, he kept asking about me,” she said. “It’s only fair.”
“Yeah? And what’s your story, Barbra?”
She shook her head, looking back at the TV. There was something pained in her expression, and Sebastian felt suddenly sympathetic and truly sorry for whatever comment he’d made that morning and the last couple of days. Somehow, being a ghost seemed worse than craving blood or turning into a wolf once a month.
“I just,” she started. “I was going to be such a big star.”
Sebastian snorted. God, this girl.
“Oh, hey, hey,” he said when she looked at her again, lifting both hands in front of him. Her eyes were shiny and huge, and she looked like a sad little lamb. “Please don’t cry. I’m terrible with crying people.”
She sniffled, looking down. No tears fell down her cheeks, though.
“Ok,” she said. “But I’m going to hug you now.”
Sebastian groaned. “Is that really necessary?”
“Yes.”
He groaned again, just to put emphasis on his annoyance. “Fine. But just so you know, I’m completely against it and it will never happen again. I don’t hug. Specially people with boobs.”
-o-o-o-o-
Kurt came home to Sebastian and Rachel seating in front of the TV and arguing over an episode of Sex and The City. Sebastian was freshly showered, and he could smell the soap all the way from the door, where the scent hit him strongly. Sometimes he really hated his heightened senses, and whoever had been stupid enough to say that werewolves smelled something other than delicious.
“Come on, ghost girl,” Sebastian was saying. “He promised nothing, and the woman is just being needy and annoying. If she claims she can have meaningless sex, she needs to back it up.”
“God, you’re such a guy,” Rachel answered.
“It didn’t take you too long to discover his true nature, then,” Kurt piped up. When he walked towards the shared sofa, he received a set of twin smiles for his troubles. It was sort of unnerving. “Make room for me,” he demanded.
He sat on the space Rachel liberated next to her and in the middle of the sofa. Almost immediately she cuddled against him, leaning her head on his shoulder. On his other side, Sebastian squeezed his hand and mouthed I’m sorry. In that moment, everything seemed to be right in the world.
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Chapter 2