Prompt Post #7
Welcome to the Glee Angst Meme again! You know how these things work. You can come here and prompt your most angsty prompts, and write stories filling those angsty prompts to let our characters suffer.
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Kurt wakes up to his phone going off obnoxiously loudly. He reaches to grab it from the nightstand, pokes the screen with awkward, sleepy fingers to answer the call and presses it to his ear, snuggling further under the duvet and closes his eyes again.
“It had better be good, I warn you, whoever you are,” he says. “I don’t know what time it is but it’s early.”
He hears a familiar chuckle. Only Mercedes is able to be this chipper early on Sunday morning.
“It’s eight o’clock already, white boy, time to wake up. Or were you sexting Blaine all night long so you didn’t get any sleep?” she teases.
Kurt groans, less artificially than he’d like. He actually wouldn’t mind sexting, or just plain old texting, but Blaine has sent him exactly three texts since he went to that blasted wedding, and Kurt feels like it’s not enough.
Not that he complains. Blaine must be buzy, weddings are, well, buzy things, Kurt would know, he’s been to one not so long ago. And Blaine mentioned that his cousin asked him to sing later at the reception, so he must have a really tight schedule.
Kurt just misses him, that’s all.
“Your interest in my and Blaine’s love life is unhealthy, do you know that?” he says, settling for chiding her jokingly. “And is this really why you called me? I hope honest to God that it’s not.”
He stifles a yawn; quite unsuccessfully so, to be honest.
Mercedes laughs.
“No, not this, though I wouldn’t mind to listen about you two, it always calms my nerves. Anyway, I wanted to make sure that we are still on for the coffee and the window-shopping today.”
Oh. Kurt has completely forgotten about it.
They usually go to the Lima Mall on Sundays and look at all the clothes and shoes and accessories, mocking them or admiring, and look through the CDs in the music department, playing this game where the one who remembers more songs by this or that singer wins (covers made by someone else are half-points, the names of the composer and the songwriter, if it’s not the singer themselves, are two points each). Sometimes Tina comes along, and Rachel, and, once, Quinn too. And they buy rainbow lollipops for Brittany just to see her smile on Monday.
It’s always fun, and Kurt brightens for a second before remembering that he has a liability now. He can’t leave Sebastian to his own devious devices for the day, can he? Even if Sebastian isn’t planning to commit some spectacular crime in Kurt’s house, he’ll still have nothing to do, just think about how his perfect, brilliant life turned to dust in a blink of an eye because of something that didn’t depend on him (although, Kurt has to say, it really depended on Sebastian to have or not to have sex with someone in the middle of the day when anyone could walk in on them). Such kind of thinking doesn’t do people’s mindsets any good, even if they were not Criminal Meerkats from the start.
He groans again, completely sincerely now.
“I don’t know, Mercedes. Yesterday afternoon something came up, I’m not sure I can make it…”
“Something? Which is?” Mercedes sounds upset - Kurt never blew the Sunday window-shopping before. He figures he owes her an explanation, but it’s still so very unclear what will happen next with Sebastian, and he doesn’t really want to talk about it. Not if he can avoid it. “Did something happen to your dad? Or Finn? Everything’s fine, right, it’s not some kind of accident or whatever?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course, everything’s fine,” he hurries to reassure. “As far as I know, my family’s never been better.”
“So, what is it, then?”
Kurt sighs.
“It’s Sebastian.”
“What? This piece of criminal crap? What did he do to you? Did he assault you? Kurt!”
“Calm down, please.” Kurt sits up. Sleep is gone for sure now, he can as well put himself into a more or less vertical position. “He didn’t do anything.”
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