give your heart (a break), part ix (glee, kurtbastian)
Fandom: Glee
Pairings/Characters: Kurt/Sebastian, side Brody/Rachel, brief Adam/Kurt, Sebastian/OC, Isabelle, Santana, Mercedes, Puck, OCs.
Warnings: Semi-graphic sex, a tiny bit of homophobia, language, not entirely friendly toward Blaine.
Summary: Post-TBU AU. Life moves on after heartbreak: Kurt knows that more than most. As he tries to put his life back together after Blaine, he finds an unexpected ally in his new coworker and Isabelle's nephew: Sebastian Smythe. As Kurt goes through his new life as a single man, he finds an unexpected depth to Sebastian and realizes that losing the first love of his life doesn't mean he'll never love again.
Author's Notes: Written for the kurtbastianbang. Thank you to the lovely keesecake for the amazing fanart! This behemouth was originally going to be 20k of Sebastian and Kurt being cute in New York - obviously this shows that I can't write short fiction worth shit. All musical numbers can either be found here here or they will be linked in the story. The title is taken from "Give Your Heart a Break." Now, without further adieu--
The party is held in a fancy hotel ballroom in the middle of downtown: it takes Kurt longer than he expects to find it after the cab drops him off though Isabelle emailed him directions last night. As he enters, he smoothes over his hair, pats down his clothes to make sure they’re unwrinkled.
Inside, the entire building is white, antique. Kurt stares, a little awed: he’s never been in such a fancy place. Last time he stayed at a hotel in New York is was with the New Directions for Nationals and they were holed up in a national chain. Kurt pats down his hair again, worries that he didn’t dress up enough, whatever Isabelle said.
Isabelle’s instructions had said that the party would be held in the Gold Room on the fifth floor. Kurt’s just about to go up when Sebastian comes in through the door, breathing hard. He’s wearing a dress shirt and formal pants and looks miles better than he ever has outside of a Dalton uniform. Kurt eyes him, swallows hard.
“You just getting here too?” Sebastian asks as he jogs up to Kurt’s side. His shirt sleeves are rolled up at the elbow and he’s stupidly, unfairly good-looking.
“Yes,” Kurt says, a little breathless. “I had a little trouble finding the place.”
“Not quite a New York City native yet, huh?” Sebastian asks, grinning. Kurt rolls his eyes, relaxes a little at the familiar banter.
“Come on,” he says instead of retorting. “We’d better get up before Isabelle skins us both for being so late.”
-
"Kurt!" Isabelle cries as they enter to music and loud chatter. There are a bunch of suits in the room, but Isabelle has a feather boa wrapped around her shoulders and the look of someone who’s drunk too much. Christmas decorations are strung up and there’s a huge tree tucked into the corner, drooping with ornaments. "And Sebastian!" She winks at them and Kurt feels a flush crawl up the back of his neck. "I didn't expect you two to come together!"
"We didn't-"
"We're not-"
Sebastian and Kurt exchange a look and laugh together. "We just got here at the same time," Kurt explains to Isabelle.
Isabelle winks again and Kurt's flush deepens, but he manages to raise an unimpressed eyebrow when Isabelle giggles at him.
"Come in, come in," she says, shooing them inside where there are throngs of people gathered, talking to each other loudly. "The party's just getting started." She shoots a sly look at Kurt that should warn him of what's coming, but he still manages to be surprised when she latches onto his arm and says, "You know, you should sing for us, Kurt! Get us in the partying mood!"
Kurt blinks down at her. "Sing?" he asks, nonplussed. He knows this isn’t a formal affair, but . . . .
"Well, you want to go to NYADA, don't you?" Isabelle says. "And you were a finalist last year, so you must be amazing! Come on!" She looks around, leans forward to whisper, “Plus we’re still trying to get the sound system figured out in here and we did promise our guests entertainment.”
Kurt glances at Sebastian, who looks amused. "Come on, Kurt," he says when he notices that Kurt's looking. "Give us a show."
Kurt flushes, bites his lip. He's usually never one to deny the spotlight, but he feels awkward now, surrounded by people he doesn't know and-well, Sebastian standing there, eyes gleaming with humor. He knows that Sebastian thinks he's . . . girly, that he doesn't have the stage presence to rival Blaine or Rachel or even Sebastian himself. You do have that, he reminds himself, spine straightening. And there's no better time to prove that to Sebastian-and himself-than now.
"Sure," he says, and gets the gratification of seeing Sebastian's eyes widen in surprise. "I know just the song." He should probably sing some sort of carol, he knows, but Kurt’s never been very big on Christmas--and besides, this is a party for a fashion magazine. His song choice will be perfect.
Isabelle claps her hands together. "Someone get me a microphone!" she tells one of the nearby employees, who rushes off to fulfill Isabelle's command.
"You're really doing this?" Sebastian murmurs into Kurt's ear as Isabelle accepts the microphone from her harried employee. Isabelle ushers them to an open place in the room, where there’s a small dance floor and stage. "I didn't think you had the guts, Hummel."
Kurt levels Sebastian a look over his shoulder, and takes the mic from Isabelle. It's smooth and warm in his hand, and confidence returns to him in such a sudden rush that he feels dizzy. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Sebastian," he says, then steps forward on to the stage.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he says, and the crowd's attention drifts towards him. “Isabelle has asked that me to perform some live music until we figure out some problems with our sound system.”
There’s a round of indifferent claps and Kurt’s mouth firms: he vows that he’ll have them eating out his hand by the end of this number, no matter what. He glances at Sebastian for a moment before he starts and finds his eyes fixed on Kurt. Something in his stomach settles at that, and he faces the crowd with confidence.
"In life," he sings, "one has to face a huge assortment of nauseating fads and good advice."
It's strange singing it acapella, without background dancers, but Kurt's sang this often enough in his bedroom that he could do it in his sleep. As the song picks up, he moves forward in the crowd and goes with it, flirting with strange men by sashaying into their personal space, urging women to shimmy with him. The crowd starts to get into it with him--people are laughing, dancing a little.
"Oh now I believe in looking like my time on earth is cooking," he sings and as he twirls he catches sight of Sebastian, watching him with a strange fond look on his face. Kurt's so flustered that he nearly misses his next line, but when he turns again it's with warmth building in his chest. "Whether polka-dotted, striped, or even checked." Some of the employees are laughing, he can see, and even a few of them are singing along, mouthing the words with him. Kurt grins and twirls as he sings, "Every fiber of my being is displayed to quite remarkable effect," showing off his current fabulous outfit: slim, tight fitting pants, a dark blue dress shirt and grey-black waistcoat. He gets whistles in return and he laughs.
“I would rather wear a barrel, then conservative apparel,” Kurt sings and behind him, Isabelle comes up and starts singing background oohs, getting some of the nearby girls to join her. As Kurt twirls, they follow him, and they even manage to fall into a sort of routine-Kurt feels inexplicably like he's part of an Unholy Trinity.
"For dress has always been, my strongest suit!" He laughs as he finishes and everyone claps. He bows, then hands the microphone back to Isabelle, who's grinning at him.
"Kurt Hummel, everyone!" she says and the applause rises in volume. "One day you'll be seeing him on the big stage!"
Kurt blushes and laughs when he hears wolf-whistles before he makes his way back to Sebastian amidst smiles and praise. Sebastian watches him with considering eyes and Kurt wonders with a thread of nervousness twisting in his stomach, what exactly Sebastian thought.
"That was excellent," Sebastian says as Kurt approaches. Kurt stops, does a double take.
"A compliment?" he asks, only half-disbelieving. "From the great Sebastian Smythe? I thought the world didn't end until the 21st?"
Sebastian laughs, but the intent look doesn't fade from his eyes. "I mean it, Kurt." He pauses. "You never got any solos from New Directions . . ."
"Or the Warblers," Kurt reminds him. "The only time they gave me anything was when Blaine told them to." He shrugs. He remembers being so bitter over that, but it's hard to be now that he's pursuing his dreams, living his life in the best city in the world and loving every second of it. "I was too fabulous for them," he says, smiling a little.
Sebastian doesn't smile. "They should have given you something," he says, and the firmness in his voice makes something warm in Kurt's chest.
"Thanks," he says, meaning it.
A tap on his arm distracts him from Sebastian’s blooming smile. “Kurt,” Isabelle says, with the barest trace of apology in her face. “Some people want to meet you.” She turns to Sebastian, and Kurt’s rarely seen her face so solemn. “Sebastian, your parents are here.”
Sebastian pales. Kurt reaches out without thinking, tucking his hand into the curve of Sebastian’s elbow. “Sebastian?” he asks, uncertain.
Sebastian shakes his head and his color evens out a little. “Sorry,” he says. To Isabelle, he adds, “Where is they?”
“Ducked into the restroom,” Isabelle says, clear worry on her face. “Look, I can tell them you decided not to come and you can leave--”
“No,” Sebastian says. His eyes dart back to Kurt for a brief moment. “No, I should probably talk to them. I’m just going to . . . go get some air. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Do you want me to stay with you?” Kurt asks, still worried because Sebastian’s color is quickly returning back to normal but he can’t quite forget the look of Sebastian’s pale face and wide, anxious eyes.
Sebastian smiles at him a semblance of normalcy. “Don’t worry about me, darling,” he says.
“I’ll be fine. Go schmooze to your heart’s content.”
He strides away, gets swallowed up in the crowd. Kurt turns to Isabelle, who watches him go with her lip caught between her teeth. When she notices Kurt’s stare, she sighs.
“I shouldn’t be the one to tell you,” she says. “It’s Sebastian’s story. But I will say this - don’t go near his father by yourself, okay?”
“Is this about Braxton?” Kurt asks, nonplussed. He knows why Braxton wouldn’t want to see his father, but he’s not quite sure what Sebastian’s issue is with his parents.
Isabelle winces. “A little,” she admits. “But, really, it’s for Sebastian to tell you, not me.”
“I need to talk to him,” Kurt says, frowning. “Where did he go, did you see?”
“Kurt--” Isabelle starts, but Kurt is already pushing his way through the crowd, trying to follow Sebastian’s path.
He ends up outside, on one of the buildings many terraces. He almost gives up when he sees Sebastian folded on a bench, head in his hands. Kurt hesitates a moment before going over to him. Sebastian looks up as he approaches, gives him a wan smile.
“Needed a moment to yourself, sweetheart?”
“You look like hell,” Kurt says, concerned. He sits down next to Sebastian.
Sebastian sighs, puts his face back in his hands.
“This is going to be such a shit night” Sebastian mutters against the skin of his palms, muffled enough that Kurt almost doesn’t hear him.
Kurt hesitates, then reaches out to put a hand on Sebastian’s back. Through his dress shirt, his back is warm.
“Your dad?” he asks.
Kurt feels Sebastian sigh. “Talking to him is exhausting,” Sebastian says. “I never know what to say to make him understand me.”
Kurt bites his lip, flexes his hand against Sebastian’s back, wrinkling the fine fabric slightly. Kurt smoothes it away, feels Sebastian shiver.
“Do you want to talk to me about it?”
Sebastian looks up, meets Kurt’s eyes. Kurt doesn’t remove his hand from Sebastian’s back.
“You know about Braxton, don’t you?” Sebastian asks. “He said he talked to you before he left.” Kurt nods and Sebastian sighs again. “It’s something like that except . . . well, I’m the last son. So if my father disowns me . . . .”
“He doesn’t have someone to give all his fortune to,” Kurt finishes, nose wrinkling. “I feel like we stepped into a Jane Austen novel.”
Sebastian snorts. “I’m not going to lie, it’s a lot like that. My father wanted me to follow him into the family business, but I’m not interested in becoming a lawyer.”
Kurt raises an eyebrow. “I would’ve thought being a lawyer would be right up your alley,” he admits. “Suits, power, sex--what’s not to love about that?”
Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You’ve been watching too much T.V.,” he says. “Smythe & Clarington isn’t much like that. My dad’s partner,” he elaborates. “The new head of the Warblers is his son . . . Hunter Clarington, I think that’s his name.” Kurt nods, a little surprised. “Even if it was, it’s not for me or for Brax. Brax just wants to travel and paint and I--” Sebastian sighs. “I,” he says again, more firmly, “want to make music.”
Kurt frowns. “Sing, you mean?” he asks. “Like, make a record?”
Sebastian waves a hand. “If I can get that,” he says. “But I’d like to produce more than anything.” His face brightens. “Producers are what make really good music great, you know? Their decisions on the final cut, on how it sounds, that’s what can make a hit.” He smirks a little. “Plus, their life really is power, suits, and sex.”
Kurt stares at him, surprised by his animation. “I didn’t know you wanted to do that,” he says, more to himself than Sebastian.
Sebastian cocks an eyebrow. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, sweetheart,” he says and Kurt snorts.
“Touche,” he says. “So your dad doesn’t approve.”
Sebastian’s face sours. “He needs an heir,” he says. “When Brax left, father disowned him for it--I’m really the only one left for the Smythe dynasty to fall on. When he heard that I wanted to do something else . . . .” Sebastian sighs. “Well, you can imagine the row we had about it.”
Something strikes Kurt. “Is that why you’re here?” he asks. “Why you’re working for Isabelle?”
Sebastian smiles, a touch bitter. “Got it in one, tiger,” he says. “My father told me that he’d send me here for a year to show me what it’s like to work in the “art world.” He seemed to think that it would be enough to convince me to change my future to something a little more suited to his world view.” Sebastian chuckles. “I guess he underestimated how stubborn I am.”
“He’s obviously never seen you pursue someone,” Kurt chimes in. “Then he’d know you’re a persistent person.” Sebastian grins at him, a little more genuine this time. “So what happens at the end of the year?”
Sebastian shrugs. “I go to daddy dearest and tell him I still don’t want to run the company. My guess is that he’ll cut me off like he did to Brax - we have a couple of cousins that he could shape into being the family heir, though I don’t they’ll come any more easily than Brax or me.”
Kurt gapes at him. “You’re okay with that?” he asks, incredulous. “Being cut off from your family? And your money?”
Sebastian shoots him a wry look. “I realize the irony of me saying this, but money isn’t everything, Kurt.”
Kurt rolls his eyes. “You’re right,” he says. “I may drop dead of shock that you said that. But seriously, won’t it be hard for you to make it on your own without any support?” Kurt can’t imagine not having his dad to fall back on when times get rough.
Sebastian shrugs. “I have Isabelle and Brax,” he says. “Neither of them are really hard-off and they’re willing to help me out. But I suppose I’ll find a job and work myself to the bone to pay my bills until I make it big--just like every other average Joe.” He grins at Kurt. “Sebastian Smythe, working class citizen. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
Kurt makes a face. “I can’t imagine you actually working,” he admits. “Probably because I’ve never seen you do it with my own eyes. All you do at the office is sleep and yell at Jerry.”
“Jerry deserves it, the piece of shit,” Sebastian says, adamant even though Kurt knows that he, like the rest of the office, has become fond of Jerry’s endearingly bad print jobs. “And I do work! Isabelle says I’m a pleasure to have working for her!”
Kurt snorts before he can stop himself. “Isabelle says that about everyone,” he says. “She says that about Irene, and you know what she’s like.” Irene, one of the other interns, gets “lost” on her way to the bathroom at least three times a day and ends up missing for hours at a time. Kurt’s pretty sure that she goes out shopping because she usually comes back in a different outfit than she arrived in.
Sebastian pulls an outraged face. “Are you saying my own aunt was lying to me?” he asks. “I can’t believe you!”
Kurt grins. “I’m just saying that if you asked me, I’d say you’re lazy and sometimes a little petulant.”
Sebastian pouts. “I am not petulant,” he says. “I’m endearingly snotty, there’s a difference.”
They glance at each other and start to laugh at the same time: when Kurt can catch his breath, he says, “We should head back inside.”
Sebastian groans. “Do we have to?” he asks. “I’d rather stay out here with you.”
Kurt knows that when it comes to a choice between him and Sebastian’s father Sebastian will choose him without contest--hell Sebastian would probably choose a pig without contest--but he can’t stop the warmth blossoming in his chest.
“Too bad,” Kurt says, standing. “Time to face the music.” He offers Sebastian a hand. “No getting out of it, I’m afraid.”
Sebastian sighs, lets himself be pulled to his feet. Instead of pulling away afterward, he grips Kurt’s hand tight. His fingers are long, warm against Kurt’s. “I’m glad you’re here, Kurt,” he mutters and when Kurt glances at him in shock, he can see a flush curling around Sebastian’s ear. He smiles, fond, and squeezes Sebastian’s hand.
part x
Pairings/Characters: Kurt/Sebastian, side Brody/Rachel, brief Adam/Kurt, Sebastian/OC, Isabelle, Santana, Mercedes, Puck, OCs.
Warnings: Semi-graphic sex, a tiny bit of homophobia, language, not entirely friendly toward Blaine.
Summary: Post-TBU AU. Life moves on after heartbreak: Kurt knows that more than most. As he tries to put his life back together after Blaine, he finds an unexpected ally in his new coworker and Isabelle's nephew: Sebastian Smythe. As Kurt goes through his new life as a single man, he finds an unexpected depth to Sebastian and realizes that losing the first love of his life doesn't mean he'll never love again.
Author's Notes: Written for the kurtbastianbang. Thank you to the lovely keesecake for the amazing fanart! This behemouth was originally going to be 20k of Sebastian and Kurt being cute in New York - obviously this shows that I can't write short fiction worth shit. All musical numbers can either be found here here or they will be linked in the story. The title is taken from "Give Your Heart a Break." Now, without further adieu--
The party is held in a fancy hotel ballroom in the middle of downtown: it takes Kurt longer than he expects to find it after the cab drops him off though Isabelle emailed him directions last night. As he enters, he smoothes over his hair, pats down his clothes to make sure they’re unwrinkled.
Inside, the entire building is white, antique. Kurt stares, a little awed: he’s never been in such a fancy place. Last time he stayed at a hotel in New York is was with the New Directions for Nationals and they were holed up in a national chain. Kurt pats down his hair again, worries that he didn’t dress up enough, whatever Isabelle said.
Isabelle’s instructions had said that the party would be held in the Gold Room on the fifth floor. Kurt’s just about to go up when Sebastian comes in through the door, breathing hard. He’s wearing a dress shirt and formal pants and looks miles better than he ever has outside of a Dalton uniform. Kurt eyes him, swallows hard.
“You just getting here too?” Sebastian asks as he jogs up to Kurt’s side. His shirt sleeves are rolled up at the elbow and he’s stupidly, unfairly good-looking.
“Yes,” Kurt says, a little breathless. “I had a little trouble finding the place.”
“Not quite a New York City native yet, huh?” Sebastian asks, grinning. Kurt rolls his eyes, relaxes a little at the familiar banter.
“Come on,” he says instead of retorting. “We’d better get up before Isabelle skins us both for being so late.”
-
"Kurt!" Isabelle cries as they enter to music and loud chatter. There are a bunch of suits in the room, but Isabelle has a feather boa wrapped around her shoulders and the look of someone who’s drunk too much. Christmas decorations are strung up and there’s a huge tree tucked into the corner, drooping with ornaments. "And Sebastian!" She winks at them and Kurt feels a flush crawl up the back of his neck. "I didn't expect you two to come together!"
"We didn't-"
"We're not-"
Sebastian and Kurt exchange a look and laugh together. "We just got here at the same time," Kurt explains to Isabelle.
Isabelle winks again and Kurt's flush deepens, but he manages to raise an unimpressed eyebrow when Isabelle giggles at him.
"Come in, come in," she says, shooing them inside where there are throngs of people gathered, talking to each other loudly. "The party's just getting started." She shoots a sly look at Kurt that should warn him of what's coming, but he still manages to be surprised when she latches onto his arm and says, "You know, you should sing for us, Kurt! Get us in the partying mood!"
Kurt blinks down at her. "Sing?" he asks, nonplussed. He knows this isn’t a formal affair, but . . . .
"Well, you want to go to NYADA, don't you?" Isabelle says. "And you were a finalist last year, so you must be amazing! Come on!" She looks around, leans forward to whisper, “Plus we’re still trying to get the sound system figured out in here and we did promise our guests entertainment.”
Kurt glances at Sebastian, who looks amused. "Come on, Kurt," he says when he notices that Kurt's looking. "Give us a show."
Kurt flushes, bites his lip. He's usually never one to deny the spotlight, but he feels awkward now, surrounded by people he doesn't know and-well, Sebastian standing there, eyes gleaming with humor. He knows that Sebastian thinks he's . . . girly, that he doesn't have the stage presence to rival Blaine or Rachel or even Sebastian himself. You do have that, he reminds himself, spine straightening. And there's no better time to prove that to Sebastian-and himself-than now.
"Sure," he says, and gets the gratification of seeing Sebastian's eyes widen in surprise. "I know just the song." He should probably sing some sort of carol, he knows, but Kurt’s never been very big on Christmas--and besides, this is a party for a fashion magazine. His song choice will be perfect.
Isabelle claps her hands together. "Someone get me a microphone!" she tells one of the nearby employees, who rushes off to fulfill Isabelle's command.
"You're really doing this?" Sebastian murmurs into Kurt's ear as Isabelle accepts the microphone from her harried employee. Isabelle ushers them to an open place in the room, where there’s a small dance floor and stage. "I didn't think you had the guts, Hummel."
Kurt levels Sebastian a look over his shoulder, and takes the mic from Isabelle. It's smooth and warm in his hand, and confidence returns to him in such a sudden rush that he feels dizzy. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Sebastian," he says, then steps forward on to the stage.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he says, and the crowd's attention drifts towards him. “Isabelle has asked that me to perform some live music until we figure out some problems with our sound system.”
There’s a round of indifferent claps and Kurt’s mouth firms: he vows that he’ll have them eating out his hand by the end of this number, no matter what. He glances at Sebastian for a moment before he starts and finds his eyes fixed on Kurt. Something in his stomach settles at that, and he faces the crowd with confidence.
"In life," he sings, "one has to face a huge assortment of nauseating fads and good advice."
It's strange singing it acapella, without background dancers, but Kurt's sang this often enough in his bedroom that he could do it in his sleep. As the song picks up, he moves forward in the crowd and goes with it, flirting with strange men by sashaying into their personal space, urging women to shimmy with him. The crowd starts to get into it with him--people are laughing, dancing a little.
"Oh now I believe in looking like my time on earth is cooking," he sings and as he twirls he catches sight of Sebastian, watching him with a strange fond look on his face. Kurt's so flustered that he nearly misses his next line, but when he turns again it's with warmth building in his chest. "Whether polka-dotted, striped, or even checked." Some of the employees are laughing, he can see, and even a few of them are singing along, mouthing the words with him. Kurt grins and twirls as he sings, "Every fiber of my being is displayed to quite remarkable effect," showing off his current fabulous outfit: slim, tight fitting pants, a dark blue dress shirt and grey-black waistcoat. He gets whistles in return and he laughs.
“I would rather wear a barrel, then conservative apparel,” Kurt sings and behind him, Isabelle comes up and starts singing background oohs, getting some of the nearby girls to join her. As Kurt twirls, they follow him, and they even manage to fall into a sort of routine-Kurt feels inexplicably like he's part of an Unholy Trinity.
"For dress has always been, my strongest suit!" He laughs as he finishes and everyone claps. He bows, then hands the microphone back to Isabelle, who's grinning at him.
"Kurt Hummel, everyone!" she says and the applause rises in volume. "One day you'll be seeing him on the big stage!"
Kurt blushes and laughs when he hears wolf-whistles before he makes his way back to Sebastian amidst smiles and praise. Sebastian watches him with considering eyes and Kurt wonders with a thread of nervousness twisting in his stomach, what exactly Sebastian thought.
"That was excellent," Sebastian says as Kurt approaches. Kurt stops, does a double take.
"A compliment?" he asks, only half-disbelieving. "From the great Sebastian Smythe? I thought the world didn't end until the 21st?"
Sebastian laughs, but the intent look doesn't fade from his eyes. "I mean it, Kurt." He pauses. "You never got any solos from New Directions . . ."
"Or the Warblers," Kurt reminds him. "The only time they gave me anything was when Blaine told them to." He shrugs. He remembers being so bitter over that, but it's hard to be now that he's pursuing his dreams, living his life in the best city in the world and loving every second of it. "I was too fabulous for them," he says, smiling a little.
Sebastian doesn't smile. "They should have given you something," he says, and the firmness in his voice makes something warm in Kurt's chest.
"Thanks," he says, meaning it.
A tap on his arm distracts him from Sebastian’s blooming smile. “Kurt,” Isabelle says, with the barest trace of apology in her face. “Some people want to meet you.” She turns to Sebastian, and Kurt’s rarely seen her face so solemn. “Sebastian, your parents are here.”
Sebastian pales. Kurt reaches out without thinking, tucking his hand into the curve of Sebastian’s elbow. “Sebastian?” he asks, uncertain.
Sebastian shakes his head and his color evens out a little. “Sorry,” he says. To Isabelle, he adds, “Where is they?”
“Ducked into the restroom,” Isabelle says, clear worry on her face. “Look, I can tell them you decided not to come and you can leave--”
“No,” Sebastian says. His eyes dart back to Kurt for a brief moment. “No, I should probably talk to them. I’m just going to . . . go get some air. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Do you want me to stay with you?” Kurt asks, still worried because Sebastian’s color is quickly returning back to normal but he can’t quite forget the look of Sebastian’s pale face and wide, anxious eyes.
Sebastian smiles at him a semblance of normalcy. “Don’t worry about me, darling,” he says.
“I’ll be fine. Go schmooze to your heart’s content.”
He strides away, gets swallowed up in the crowd. Kurt turns to Isabelle, who watches him go with her lip caught between her teeth. When she notices Kurt’s stare, she sighs.
“I shouldn’t be the one to tell you,” she says. “It’s Sebastian’s story. But I will say this - don’t go near his father by yourself, okay?”
“Is this about Braxton?” Kurt asks, nonplussed. He knows why Braxton wouldn’t want to see his father, but he’s not quite sure what Sebastian’s issue is with his parents.
Isabelle winces. “A little,” she admits. “But, really, it’s for Sebastian to tell you, not me.”
“I need to talk to him,” Kurt says, frowning. “Where did he go, did you see?”
“Kurt--” Isabelle starts, but Kurt is already pushing his way through the crowd, trying to follow Sebastian’s path.
He ends up outside, on one of the buildings many terraces. He almost gives up when he sees Sebastian folded on a bench, head in his hands. Kurt hesitates a moment before going over to him. Sebastian looks up as he approaches, gives him a wan smile.
“Needed a moment to yourself, sweetheart?”
“You look like hell,” Kurt says, concerned. He sits down next to Sebastian.
Sebastian sighs, puts his face back in his hands.
“This is going to be such a shit night” Sebastian mutters against the skin of his palms, muffled enough that Kurt almost doesn’t hear him.
Kurt hesitates, then reaches out to put a hand on Sebastian’s back. Through his dress shirt, his back is warm.
“Your dad?” he asks.
Kurt feels Sebastian sigh. “Talking to him is exhausting,” Sebastian says. “I never know what to say to make him understand me.”
Kurt bites his lip, flexes his hand against Sebastian’s back, wrinkling the fine fabric slightly. Kurt smoothes it away, feels Sebastian shiver.
“Do you want to talk to me about it?”
Sebastian looks up, meets Kurt’s eyes. Kurt doesn’t remove his hand from Sebastian’s back.
“You know about Braxton, don’t you?” Sebastian asks. “He said he talked to you before he left.” Kurt nods and Sebastian sighs again. “It’s something like that except . . . well, I’m the last son. So if my father disowns me . . . .”
“He doesn’t have someone to give all his fortune to,” Kurt finishes, nose wrinkling. “I feel like we stepped into a Jane Austen novel.”
Sebastian snorts. “I’m not going to lie, it’s a lot like that. My father wanted me to follow him into the family business, but I’m not interested in becoming a lawyer.”
Kurt raises an eyebrow. “I would’ve thought being a lawyer would be right up your alley,” he admits. “Suits, power, sex--what’s not to love about that?”
Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You’ve been watching too much T.V.,” he says. “Smythe & Clarington isn’t much like that. My dad’s partner,” he elaborates. “The new head of the Warblers is his son . . . Hunter Clarington, I think that’s his name.” Kurt nods, a little surprised. “Even if it was, it’s not for me or for Brax. Brax just wants to travel and paint and I--” Sebastian sighs. “I,” he says again, more firmly, “want to make music.”
Kurt frowns. “Sing, you mean?” he asks. “Like, make a record?”
Sebastian waves a hand. “If I can get that,” he says. “But I’d like to produce more than anything.” His face brightens. “Producers are what make really good music great, you know? Their decisions on the final cut, on how it sounds, that’s what can make a hit.” He smirks a little. “Plus, their life really is power, suits, and sex.”
Kurt stares at him, surprised by his animation. “I didn’t know you wanted to do that,” he says, more to himself than Sebastian.
Sebastian cocks an eyebrow. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, sweetheart,” he says and Kurt snorts.
“Touche,” he says. “So your dad doesn’t approve.”
Sebastian’s face sours. “He needs an heir,” he says. “When Brax left, father disowned him for it--I’m really the only one left for the Smythe dynasty to fall on. When he heard that I wanted to do something else . . . .” Sebastian sighs. “Well, you can imagine the row we had about it.”
Something strikes Kurt. “Is that why you’re here?” he asks. “Why you’re working for Isabelle?”
Sebastian smiles, a touch bitter. “Got it in one, tiger,” he says. “My father told me that he’d send me here for a year to show me what it’s like to work in the “art world.” He seemed to think that it would be enough to convince me to change my future to something a little more suited to his world view.” Sebastian chuckles. “I guess he underestimated how stubborn I am.”
“He’s obviously never seen you pursue someone,” Kurt chimes in. “Then he’d know you’re a persistent person.” Sebastian grins at him, a little more genuine this time. “So what happens at the end of the year?”
Sebastian shrugs. “I go to daddy dearest and tell him I still don’t want to run the company. My guess is that he’ll cut me off like he did to Brax - we have a couple of cousins that he could shape into being the family heir, though I don’t they’ll come any more easily than Brax or me.”
Kurt gapes at him. “You’re okay with that?” he asks, incredulous. “Being cut off from your family? And your money?”
Sebastian shoots him a wry look. “I realize the irony of me saying this, but money isn’t everything, Kurt.”
Kurt rolls his eyes. “You’re right,” he says. “I may drop dead of shock that you said that. But seriously, won’t it be hard for you to make it on your own without any support?” Kurt can’t imagine not having his dad to fall back on when times get rough.
Sebastian shrugs. “I have Isabelle and Brax,” he says. “Neither of them are really hard-off and they’re willing to help me out. But I suppose I’ll find a job and work myself to the bone to pay my bills until I make it big--just like every other average Joe.” He grins at Kurt. “Sebastian Smythe, working class citizen. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
Kurt makes a face. “I can’t imagine you actually working,” he admits. “Probably because I’ve never seen you do it with my own eyes. All you do at the office is sleep and yell at Jerry.”
“Jerry deserves it, the piece of shit,” Sebastian says, adamant even though Kurt knows that he, like the rest of the office, has become fond of Jerry’s endearingly bad print jobs. “And I do work! Isabelle says I’m a pleasure to have working for her!”
Kurt snorts before he can stop himself. “Isabelle says that about everyone,” he says. “She says that about Irene, and you know what she’s like.” Irene, one of the other interns, gets “lost” on her way to the bathroom at least three times a day and ends up missing for hours at a time. Kurt’s pretty sure that she goes out shopping because she usually comes back in a different outfit than she arrived in.
Sebastian pulls an outraged face. “Are you saying my own aunt was lying to me?” he asks. “I can’t believe you!”
Kurt grins. “I’m just saying that if you asked me, I’d say you’re lazy and sometimes a little petulant.”
Sebastian pouts. “I am not petulant,” he says. “I’m endearingly snotty, there’s a difference.”
They glance at each other and start to laugh at the same time: when Kurt can catch his breath, he says, “We should head back inside.”
Sebastian groans. “Do we have to?” he asks. “I’d rather stay out here with you.”
Kurt knows that when it comes to a choice between him and Sebastian’s father Sebastian will choose him without contest--hell Sebastian would probably choose a pig without contest--but he can’t stop the warmth blossoming in his chest.
“Too bad,” Kurt says, standing. “Time to face the music.” He offers Sebastian a hand. “No getting out of it, I’m afraid.”
Sebastian sighs, lets himself be pulled to his feet. Instead of pulling away afterward, he grips Kurt’s hand tight. His fingers are long, warm against Kurt’s. “I’m glad you’re here, Kurt,” he mutters and when Kurt glances at him in shock, he can see a flush curling around Sebastian’s ear. He smiles, fond, and squeezes Sebastian’s hand.
part x