Jul 04, 2020 21:14

Sebastian drives with the top down all the way to Red Hat. He’d been considerate enough to warn Kurt ahead of time so he wouldn’t spend too much time fussing with his hair. Kurt already had a look in mind since the moment he found out they were going, so this news wasn’t well received. But he rolls with the punches, managing to throw together a style that comes across as attractively disheveled - morning-after-bedhead with a twist of reluctant apocalyptic superhero. On the up side, not having to sculpt his do ends up being a huge time saver. And Sebastian being Sebastian knows how to adjust the windows of his car with the top down so that Kurt doesn’t get buffeted too badly by the wind.

That move adds stock to Sebastian’s boyfriend cred.

The drive to the amphitheater is magical  - the night air that whips over their heads warm and fragrant, the sky bursting with stars, and relatively smooth sailing for the first leg of their trip. Sebastian had created a playlist of Airiel Down’s hits for them to listen to, but they end up forgoing music altogether to relax in companionable silence. Sebastian’s right hand finds and holds Kurt’s left above the gear shift, and they remain that way for the entirety of the drive.

The second leg of their journey ends up being a bit rockier.

The pulsing beat reaches them from over a mile away. Fingers of multicolored search lights stretch to the sky, welcoming them from the highway. Kurt gets swallowed by deja vu the second he sees those lights in the air, and excitement washes over him. Traffic into Raleigh is hellacious and, in the end, parking scarce, but it’s worth it. The vibe coming off Red Hat is electric. It hits them before they get anywhere near the amphitheater. And even though Kurt is heartbroken for Julian, he’s grateful that he offered them these tickets. Kurt wants to make it up to him, but the only way he can think to do that (the only way he’d agree to, that is) is if he could pull Cooper out of a hat, make him keep his promises.

And make Julian Julian again.

Sebastian and Kurt foot it from the only lot with valet parking that had space available down to the venue. They did find a spot closer, but it was on the street, and would have only given Sebastian’s Mustang a foot of clearance front and back.

Sebastian balked.

“Do you know how many people are going to be walking by here, intoxicated, carrying keys, phones, and God knows what else that might scratch my paint? Not to mention the spot seekers who won’t pay any attention and might take off my rear view mirror. Nu-uh. I have no intention of putting my baby in any danger,” Sebastian had said, putting a protective arm around Kurt’s waist and squeezing tight. “Not even for prime parking.”

From the parking lot, it’s a stretch of the legs to get there, and also a bit of a dance - swarms of people migrating up and down the street, stopping Kurt and Sebastian’s progress every five feet. The stop and go gets frustrating after awhile. But before Kurt knows it, they’re waiting in line, watching the opening numbers by way of a gigantic flat screen positioned behind the stage for the people stuck in lawn seating. Kurt turns in a circle, getting a lay of the land. He sees a hotel across the street - a Sheraton or a Hilton, some chain establishment. The drapes on each window are pulled open with guests sitting in front of the glass, enjoying the music from the comfort of their rooms.

‘That’s the way to do it,’ Kurt thinks enviously. As much as he enjoys a night out, he envisions being in one of those rooms, watching the concert from beneath the covers of a king-sized bed, perhaps using the music as a backdrop while he and Sebastian make love with the curtains wide open. Or right in front of the window, kneeling on the carpet, holding on to the drapes for leverage, hot skin pressed against the cool glass as Sebastian takes him from behind.

Would people notice them and call the police? On the average Wednesday or Thursday possibly, but not during an event like this, with everyone’s attention focused elsewhere. There’s a chance there is a couple doing the exact same right now. Kurt wouldn’t know. Even with an unobstructed view of the windows, he’s hard pressed to zero in on any single one.

That fantasy is not like anything he’s ever wanted before - more exhibitionist than he would have been comfortable with at the beginning of summer. But now - who knows? He’s game for pretty much anything. He’s been aiming to mark items off his bucket list, but maybe he should consider adding a few things, too - things that will be possible because he has Sebastian to do them with.

Once they get through the main gate, Sebastian and Kurt breeze past the line of people trying to buy last minute tickets. Sebastian gets his phone screen scanned by the guard manning the turnstile and voila.

They’re in.

The place is packed. There are still seats available but they’re difficult to pick out due to the sheer amount of bodies filling the rows. Not a single person is sitting down - everyone on their feet, hands in the air, moving to the music. An usher offers to help them find their seat. Sebastian tells her that he’s familiar with the layout and, to Kurt’s surprise, she lets them go off on their own. Sebastian finds their seats, or seems to find the general location, and leads Kurt down the row to the center.

Kurt had really been hoping for an aisle seat. He isn’t a crowd person. He doesn’t like germs or bacteria, and human sweat teems with it! He’d stretched his boundaries at that bar in Columbus, too fascinated by the flesh on display, too intrigued by Sebastian’s promise of a boozy good time, one where Sebastian acted as designated driver while Kurt got his buzz on. But this is different. This is that crowd of half-dressed, writhing bodies times ten! Aside from the people bouncing around them, getting way too close by accident, the temperature soars about twenty degrees immediately.

They have excellent seats, a stone’s throw from the front with a clear view of the stage. Kurt focuses on that, and on the music, on the beat humming through the cement floor, drumming its way through his body.

He focuses on Sebastian, standing so close, they may as well be fused together, a single entity swaying and grinding in time to the music.

But even with Sebastian’s body pressed against his, Kurt finds himself having a hard time letting go, feeling like a pinball caught between bumpers: his incredible boyfriend to his left, and a woman to his right who has never heard the meaning of the word restraint.

His mind takes a turn back to the hotel across the street, those open windows, and the people on the other side of them, doing whatever with this music as a soundtrack. He wonders what Sebastian would think if he suggested they watch the rest of the concert from a rented room and put his fantasy into action.

Odds are, Kurt feels, Sebastian would be willing - and eager - to oblige.

“How are you enjoying yourself?” Sebastian asks, lips hovering close to Kurt’s ear. He wouldn’t need to ask if they were standing chest to chest instead of chest to back. If Kurt’s hips were flush against Sebastian’s, he’d have an accurate indicator of whether or not Kurt is enjoying himself.

“Great!” Kurt tilts his head back, hands cupped over his mouth so he doesn’t blow out his vocal chords trying to be heard. They are his instrument, after all. “I really like it!”

“Really? You like this kind of music?” Sebastian asks, smiling as if Kurt’s enjoyment is a personal triumph, which leads Kurt to believe that Airiel Down must be one of Sebastian’s favorite bands. Kurt has never heard of them before, but when he gets the chance, he’s going to hop onto YouTube and download every single of theirs he can find.

“Apparently!” Kurt replies, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t think this would be your speed.”

“You underestimate me, Sebastian Smythe!” Kurt says slyly. “For I have many speeds!”

Sebastian chortles loudly at that remark and Kurt blushes. It sounded different in his head. A lot different.

“I only have one complaint,” Kurt continues.

“And that is …?”

“The woman next to me keeps elbowing me in the arm! And she has sharp elbows!”

Sebastian looks past Kurt at the woman in question, bouncing up and down, limbs flailing, without a care in the world. He grabs Kurt by the elbow and shimmies him away, moving him to his other side as he peers over the crowd towards the stage, eyes sweeping the amphitheater from end to end. He must see a solution to Kurt’s problem because his face lights up.

“Come with me,” he says, taking Kurt’s hand. “Maybe I can fix that.”

“You’re going to cut off her elbows?” Kurt asks hopefully.

“Even better.” Sebastian pulls him through the crowd the way they came. It’s tight, but eventually they stumble out into the aisle without too much more elbowing and race straight for the stage. When they get there, Sebastian positions Kurt between himself and the barricade separating the audience from the stage.

Then he starts jumping up and down with his arms in the air like a lunatic.

“Wait! What … what are we doing?” Kurt asks. “Am I missing something?”

“I’m flagging down a friend. Hey! Hey, Viola! Vi! Down here!”

From where they’re standing, Kurt can see four hands on this end of the stage - three men and one woman, all wearing dark jeans and black t-shirts with Airiel Down printed in white letters across the front. The woman Sebastian seems to be hollering at has on a pair of enormous headphones with no less than three antennas sticking out the side. Kurt’s father owns a pair of BOSE noise canceling headphones that don’t look half as intimidating as these. When Kurt borrows them, they block sound so effectively, he wouldn’t hear a 747 if it came crashing into his bedroom.

He doesn’t see any way that she’ll be able to hear them.

Sebastian does, however, manage to grab the attention of a security guard - a mountain of a man with more head than neck - who frowns and walks their way.

“Uh … Sebastian …” Kurt tugs on his boyfriend’s sleeve. “I think we’ve been spotted!”

Sebastian glances down the barricade and spots the guard coming toward them. He’s not rushing, so he obviously doesn’t consider them a threat.

“Nah. Don’t worry about him.”

“But I think he has a Taser!” Kurt points out nervously.

“He’ll have to catch us before he can use it!”

“Believe it or not, that doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence!”

“Relax! I’ve got this under control!” Sebastian bends his knees and jumps higher, windmilling his arms over his head while he’s airborne. Kurt doesn’t see how making an ass out of himself means he has things under control. But seeing as luck is a way of life for Sebastian, it does the trick. When the woman spots him waving frantically from behind the barricade, she smiles wide, teeth gleaming unnaturally from the UV lights. “Hey! Sebastian! Let them up!” she calls to the guard marching their way. “Let them up!”

The guard, nearly upon them, seems to have no problem switching gears last minute and moves the barricade a sliver to let them pass.

Kurt, getting an up close and personal look at what is - yes - a Taser, has a mini heart attack.

“Oh my God!” she squeals. “Long time, no see!” She motions to a staircase that leads to the stage, greeting Sebastian at the top with open arms.

“I’ve got good reasons,” he says, hugging her back. He bumps Kurt’s hip with his own when she lets him go. “This is my boyfriend, Kurt.”

Smiling brown eyes land on Kurt and look him over. “Wow!” She offers Kurt her hand to shake, gives Sebastian an approving wink. “Very nice! Nice to see you finally using your charm and sense of humor to land you a man with class.”

Kurt decides there and then that he likes this woman. Not because she called him a man with class, which was nice, but because she described Sebastian as charming, and with a sense of humor.

She didn’t mention anything about his money.

“That tends to happen when you grow up and come to your senses,” Sebastian says bashfully.

“Word. So, you guys look a little beaten and battered.”

“You might say that.” Kurt rubs his arms, knowing he’ll be covered in black and blues tomorrow - bruises he’ll need to explain to everyone he encounters if he doesn’t want them to think his boyfriend covered him in head to toe hickeys. Which he might if they’re going to speculate over his sex life unsolicited anyway. Too bad Rachel isn’t here, he thinks. The jealousy in her eyes would be delicious.

“You guys through mixing with the rabble?” Viola asks.

“You know it,” Sebastian says.

“Well, you’re welcome to hang in the wings for the rest of the concert. Here …” she reaches into her pocket and pulls out two stickers, taking the liberty of affixing one to each boys’ thigh before Kurt gets the chance to complain about the catastrophic effects of adhesive on his jeans. “These’ll keep security off your back. They’ll even get you back stage after.”

“Thanks a bunch!” Sebastian says. “ I knew you’d hook us up!”

“Anytime. Look, I’ve got to get back stage before intermission. If I don’t see you later, it was nice meeting you, Kurt.”

“Likewise,” Kurt says.

She jabs a thumb in Sebastian’s direction. “Keep an eye on this one. He has a tendency to get lost.”

Kurt watches her hop behind the curtain, disappearing in the cover provided by a nearby fog machine, thrown by the poignancy of her parting remark. He turns to his boyfriend gazing out across the stage with a look of genuine joy on his face that leaves Kurt speechless.

“What?” Sebastian asks, sheepish when he catches Kurt staring.

“Of course you would know the stage hand of a professional rock band.”

“No, Julian does,” Sebastian defends. “They went to Berkeley together. From what I hear, they bonded over Nueva Cancion, small batch craft beers, CBD gummies, and the trammels of having a broken younger sibling. The only contribution I’ve made to this friendship thus far is knowing Julian … unfortunately.”

“That’s apparently enough in the circles you run in.” Kurt chuckles. “But I would have thought you’d be just as famous. You know, your name and number written on bathroom walls from here to the space station ...”

Sebastian’s expression changes, becomes muddled, every default expression he has scrolling by on his face, trying to land on an appropriate one. When he can’t seem to settle, he shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at his shoes, still trying to choose.

Kurt doesn’t know why, but he feels like he needs to apologize. They’ve exchanged jokes back and forth like this before, but this one … it landed differently. “I’m sorry. I insulted you, didn’t I? I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s not that,” Sebastian says, shaking his head with a look in his eyes like even he’s trying to make himself believe that that’s not what he feels. “It’s just …” Kurt watches Sebastian’s lips move, trapped between words. “I’m not ashamed of who I am, and I’m not going to apologize for who I was, but … I don’t want you to see the Whore of Babylon every time you look at me.”

Kurt wants to tell him that he doesn’t. It’s simply a fall back joke. The two of them have tons of them. It’s not even one of the crueler ones as far as Kurt is concerned. It’s never bothered Sebastian before …

No. Kurt can’t say that. It bothers Sebastian when Julian calls him that. It bothers him a lot.

“Who do you want to be?” Kurt asks, taking Sebastian’s hand and moving closer, as impossibly close as he can until he becomes Sebastian’s entire field of view. “Who do you want me to see when I look at you?”

Sebastian loops his arms around Kurt’s waist, threading his fingers into his belt loops. He holds him tight and leans back, lifting Kurt off the ground a couple of inches, grinning when Kurt yelps and squirms. “I want to be yours. Just … your man. Kurt Hummel’s boyfriend, and that’s all.”

“Just Kurt Hummel’s boyfriend?” Kurt repeats with a laugh when he tries to touch the ground and Sebastian refuses to put him down.

Sebastian rolls his eyes up, stares contemplatively at the flashing lights overhead while he swings Kurt back and forth, only the soles of his shoes brushing the floor. “How about … Kurt Hummel’s sexy ass boyfriend?”

Sebastian sets Kurt down, but Kurt doesn’t move from his boyfriend’s embrace. They rock there, swaying side to side, reminiscent of middle-school kids at their first official dance, even though the music being performed doesn’t support their rhythm, pounding like a short-circuiting jackhammer locked in a metal box. But Sebastian’s arms around Kurt’s waist transport him to a different plane of existence entirely, where the crowds down below and the band on stage become nothing but static.

Sebastian’s lips brush Kurt’s forehead and he wonders if Sebastian knows, the way he seems to know about everything, that forehead kisses are one of his weaknesses.

If he didn’t know before, he definitely figured it out.

“Noted,” Kurt says, tilting his chin up to capture Sebastian’s next kiss with his lips. “I’ll look into having a shirt printed up.”


“Okay, so … uh … that there’s Ursa Major.” Sebastian points to a series of stars up and to the left above their heads. Kurt squints in that direction, trying to make out an outline of a bear in the group Sebastian indicates. If he unfocuses his eyes, he can kind of see it. He can also see a pig, Mario’s go-kart, one of Rachel’s carousel horses, and that girl from The Grudge. “And that over there is Ursa Minor. And those three stars in a line all together, that’s Orion’s Belt. That makes this whole section of sky …” Sebastian holds up his hands, framing between his thumbs and forefingers the portion of the heavens they’ve been staring at “… The Capricorn Sky.”

Kurt turns his head from its resting place on yet another of Sebastian’s Dalton sweatshirts, folded in a square on the windshield of his Mustang. Kurt wasn’t too surprised when Sebastian suggested they lie atop his hood and stare up at the stars when the easier and more practical option would have been to put the top down. After all, Sebastian literally jumped on the hood of his father’s Aston Martin - a memory that still haunts Kurt, causes him considerable pain when it flashes behind his eyes. However, being his baby and all, Sebastian did add the caveat that if Kurt scuffs his paint, he’ll be paying to have it buffed out.

Kurt retaliated, saying he could buff it out himself no problem wearing nothing but a tank top and Sebastian’s old gym shorts, and that if Sebastian was a good boy, he’d let him watch.

Sebastian agreed to those terms, but he had a difficult time climbing up on the car after that.

“Really?” Kurt asks, partially skeptical.

“Kurt …” Sebastian looks at him, intelligent green eyes brimming with mild hurt at Kurt questioning his authority on this subject. But then his mouth splits into a grin and he laughs. “How the fuck should I know? They’re stars! They all look the same! Big balls of gas thousands of miles away that some drunk asshole on a ship hundreds of years ago claimed made pictures and I’m supposed to remember them all? This is just what guys do. They look up at the stars and identify shit.”

“I don’t!”

“Well …” Sebastian says, waving his hand in a vague gesture.

“Wait … what’s The Capricorn Sky then? Did you make that up? Because that sounds like a limited edition Starbucks drink.”

“It’s the title of a book by Colly Campbell. Not my usual cup of tea, but it was decently entertaining.”

“Damn.” Kurt shakes his head in mock disappointment. “I was impressed, too. Smart guys get me hot, you know.”

“Well in that case, I actually do know a few constellations. The popular ones … big dipper ... little dipper … Pauly Shore …” Sebastian slides closer while Kurt’s laughter fades.

“Trying to save face, Smythe?”

Sebastian’s smile is bashful, smooth around the edges. Though Sebastian’s smiles haven’t held their razor edge for a while. “Maybe a little.”

“And how do I know you’re not putting me on again?”

“Because I have an app for it.” Sebastian reaches into his pocket and pulls out his iPhone. He swipes his finger over the screen, searching through his apps until he finds the one he’s looking for. He raises his phone, focuses on the darkness, and takes a shot of the night sky. Then he shows it to Kurt.

“Wow.” Kurt moves the image with his fingertip, reading the names of constellations as the app identifies them. “Now that’s impressive.”

“Isn’t it though?”

“Five bucks says this app was developed by a twelve-year-old.”

“You’re probably right.” Sebastian selects a hyperlink in one of the sections and scrolls through the details. “Oh hey - according to this, you can’t see Orion’s Belt in the sky over North Carolina at night during the summer. Good to know.”

Kurt giggles, the fact that Sebastian wasn’t just wrong, but nowhere near the ballpark, makes his fronting even more hilarious.

Something gooshy hits Kurt’s forehead and he jerks upright. He scans the area around them in a mild panic, looking for anyone who might be lurking nearby, throwing things.

After the concert, they roads out of Raleigh had been cluttered with cars, turning the highway into a parking lot in both directions. Sebastian suggested they go for a drive, hang out for a while until the traffic died down. He took them to another one of his thinking spots high atop a hill with nothing else for miles around - no lights, no houses, and (since they had to drive over a gravelly road at 2 miles per hour to get there) no easy way down if they get ambushed by wild animals. Or vagrants.

Or homophobes.

But Kurt hears nothing, sees no one. Not a single shadow against the black. Another wet splotch hits him on the head from straight above and he glares at the sky. “What the …?”

“What’s up, babe?”

“I think …” Kurt wipes at his forehead and stares horrified at his hand in the dark “… a bird pooped on me!”

Sebastian switches on his flashlight app and aims it at Kurt’s head.

“Ah! God! Bas!” Kurt screeches, shutting his eyes and squeezing them tight “Are you trying to blind me?”

“Yup. That’s the goal. You’ve uncovered my brilliant plan. I’m trying to help you, you walnut! Now hold still.” He takes Kurt’s wrist and re-aims the light down at his hand. “I don’t think …” He leans in close, examining the wet spot. “It’s not bird shit. It’s just water. Probably from one of the trees---” Sebastian jumps, scooting back as if poked. He, too, looks threateningly up at the sky before wiping the back of his hand down his cheek. “It got me, too!”

The next drop pegs the hood of the car, darkening the paint. Those four drops are the only warning Kurt and Sebastian get before the skies open up and a deluge starts, water pummeling the ground and the car around them, the roar deafening.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” Sebastian grumbles, sliding down the hood, then rounding to Kurt’s side to help him. “Get your ass in the car quick! If you get drenched, I’m not letting you in!”

“Nice,” Kurt remarks, though it doesn’t go over his head that Sebastian helps him first, opening his door and ushering him inside before he races to his own door. Kurt follows Sebastian with his eyes, biting back a smile when Sebastian hits a wet patch, slides three feet, spins in a complete circle, and then, thrown off track, starts running the wrong way. He finally makes it to his side of the car, throws open the door, and ducks inside as lightning splits the sky overhead. The interior of the car glows white as they stare at one another, breathing hard. The thunder that follows rumbles for close to a full minute.

When the noise dies down, they burst out laughing all over again.

“That happened fast!” Kurt says, pointing in wordless ridicule at Sebastian, who’s twice as soaked as Kurt and looks like a drowned rat.

“Yeah, it did. Jesus Christmas!” He gathers up the edge of his shirt and wrings it out onto the floor mat. “Who ordered up the tsunami?”

“Don’t say that!” Kurt presses wrinkled fingertips to Sebastian’s lips. “After everything that’s happened to us on this trip, you don’t want to tempt fate!”

“So true!”

Kurt doesn’t pull his fingers away for Sebastian’s mouth, and Sebastian starts kissing them one by one. When he reaches Kurt’s pinkie, Sebastian takes him by the wrist and presses a kiss there, too, traveling up to leave another one in his palm.

Kurt’s heart skips, every muscle in his body reacting, sparking off with tiny fires one by one by one. Water drips from the hair at the nape of Sebastian’s neck, rolls down his skin to the collar of his tee. How that isn’t absolutely driving Sebastian crazy, Kurt doesn’t know.

But Jesus, he’s sexy when he’s wet!

Kurt counts each drop as it hits the forest green fabric to keep from tearing off his own clothes and begging Sebastian to continue those kisses over every inch of his body. Not because he doesn’t want that, but because with everything on this trip, he’s trying to make this moment last. But when Sebastian sits fully up again, Kurt can’t help himself. He leans forward, bringing his mouth to Sebastian’s neck, licking up the drops with the tip of his tongue before they can make it to Sebastian’s shirt, moving up to his hairline to catch them before they even fall.

“God, Kurt,” Sebastian moans when Kurt’s tongue flicks along the sensitive skin behind his ear. “Can we …?”

“Yes,” Kurt says, reaching up to start undoing the buttons of his own shirt.

“You … you didn’t even let me finish,” Sebastian stammers, wasting no time following suit and peeling off his own wet garment. “How do you know what I’m …?”

“Were you going to ask if we can fuck?” Kurt snorts when Sebastian startles as if he’d slapped him across the face.

“Uh … possibly …”

“Then the answer is yes. Do you have any objections?”

Sebastian’s stunned expression melts into a conniving grin. “Not. A. One.”

Sebastian launches himself over the center console and into the back seat, grabbing Kurt’s arm and tugging to get him to follow. Kurt starts kissing Sebastian before he even makes it over the gear shift, kicks off his shoes and unbuttons his pants before he’s anywhere near a seat.

“Do you have a towel?” Kurt mutters when his knee hits leather.

“For what?” Sebastian mumbles against Kurt’s neck.

“For your seats.”

“We’ve already gotten the seats wet. They’ll dry. They’re leather … made from cows … and cows get wet.”

Kurt snickers. For a boy who acts so edgelord regarding his sexual prowess, Kurt quite enjoys the fact that lately he turns into a bumbling fool when he gets excited.

“That’s not … mmph … that’s not what I mean. There are ways of baptizing your seats that don’t involve water, Bas. Things that will crust in the seams … leave stains...”

“Oh. Right.” Sebastian laughs. “Okay. Just … mmph … try not to splooge all over them, will ya?”

“Don’t worry …” Kurt grunts, shifting his weight and adjusting his balance to give Sebastian easier access to his body. It’s a tight squeeze, a bit of a juggle, but once he does, once Sebastian preps them both and gets there, slides in and finds the right spot, Kurt almost loses control of his legs. “If I do,” he says, his voice breathy and needy and begging for Sebastian to move for crying out loud! “I’ll detail it for you.”

“Detail?” Sebastian repeats, his voice just as shaky, just as needy. “You know how to do that?”

“Of course I do. As it is, your baby … mmph … looks like it’s a bit overdue.”

“Bite … your … tongue,” Sebastian snaps, punctuating each word with a particularly forceful thrust. Kurt gasps as Sebastian adopts a slow rhythm, shuts his eyes to fully absorb the sublime pull of it. “I take excellent care of my baby.”

And there he goes again, making another remark that can be taken two ways.

“You have leather seats. They need going over with a horse hair brush … a rub down with Maguiar’s and a microfiber towel … polish your trim with some Aerospace Protectant …” Kurt’s voice begins to fade, lost in the ebb and flow of Sebastian’s body working into his own. “A-and when this vacation is over, I’m dying to hit those wheels with some non-acid cleaner and a bottle of tire shine. I’ll make it … make it look just like … black glass …”

“Oh God …” Sebastian’s body shudders, the hand that had reached around and found Kurt’s cock going still before it began. “That’s … that’s it. I just came.”

Kurt’s face snaps back over his shoulder, desperate to check if Sebastian is lying. Either he’s an incredible actor or no, he’s not. “What!?”

“I’m … I’m done,” Sebastian says with an embarrassed chuckle.

“You have to be joking! Please, tell me you’re joking!”

“It’s your own fault. You shouldn’t talk cars around me.”

“But you don’t know anything about cars!”

“True, but the way you sound when you talk shop … oof!” Sebastian lowers his forehead to the curve of Kurt’s spine and shivers. “It’s really erotic.”

“OhmyGod!” Kurt groans. “Sebastian! You ass---!”

“All right, all right. Hold your horses.” Sebastian rolls gingerly to one side. Holding Kurt against his body, he takes him with him, balancing to lie down carefully on the back seat while staying buried inside his boyfriend. “I guess I can go a little longer.”

“How very gracious of you,” Kurt growls, allowing himself to be manipulated, lifted and carried like a half-naked rag doll. Sebastian settles his rear into his seat, scoots down a hair with his back against the inner panel, then positions Kurt in his lap. The change in angle and in depth has Kurt seeing stars, brighter and more brilliant than the ones outside.

It’s not the easiest position in the world for Kurt to move in, but he suspects Sebastian has something else planned.

“What do you want me to do?” Kurt asks, moaning when Sebastian slides both hands down his body to his groin - one wrapping around Kurt’s cock, the other reaching further down to caress his balls.

“Just stay like this and let me touch you.” Sebastian moves both hands in different maddening directions. Kurt reclines against him, and Sebastian starts to buck up slowly. “There you go. How’s that? Do you like that?”

“Y-yes,” Kurt replies, limp in Sebastian’s arms, shuddering with each roll of his hips, each pass of his hand.

“What do you like about it?” Sebastian presses with kisses to Kurt’s temple.

“I like lying on you like this. Being close to you …” This isn’t dirty talk. It’s conversation. Sebastian wants to know how he makes Kurt feel. They could have this conversation anytime, but doing it now, in the midst of making love, feels intensely intimate. Extremely sensual. “I like feeling your heart beat against my back, your skin against mine, and your hands ...” Kurt swallows hard.

“What about my hands?”

“They’re just so … sure. So talented. So … so … mmm fucking good at this …”

Sebastian presses more kisses and a smile to Kurt’s skin. “Anything else?”

“We’re not rushing. There’s no race to the end. Oh God …” Kurt’s legs trembles when Sebastian’s hand on his cock speeds up, but the one on his balls slows down. “I want to stay like this, just like this, and listen to the rain. How long do you think we can stay this way?”

“How long would you like to stay this way?” Sebastian asks. There’s a whine in it. He may be the one in the lead, but he’s not necessarily in control. He’s becoming fully hard again, but he’s oversensitive. But he fights against that to give this to Kurt.

To satisfy someone other than himself.

“Forever? At least till morning. Can we watch the sun rise this way?”

“I’ll do my best. But there doesn’t only have to be a round one. I can make you cum … let you have a breather … then start all over again … keep going … and going … and going …”

Kurt thinks about being locked against Sebastian’s body with his boyfriend inside him, all over him, caressing him, kissing him, making him cum all night long. “That’s … good to know,” he whimpers.

Sebastian can’t competently kiss Kurt on the mouth in this position, which is the only thing Kurt doesn’t like about it. But Kurt will rectify that later. Watching the rain fall outside the window while Sebastian makes love to him reminds him of his fantasy from before - of being in a hotel room, making love in front of a window with the curtains open.

That would have been fun, but this is way better.

He feels like he’s floating, being carried on a tide, the wind and the rain rocking the car adding to his sensation of weightlessness in Sebastian’s arms.

Sebastian changes speed again, changes direction, bucks up harder and faster at odd intervals, then stops to let Kurt simmer. “Do you like that, baby?” he whispers in a broken voice as Kurt’s legs and arms become restless, hands grabbing for whatever they can touch and hold, reaching behind to thread into Sebastian’s hair and gently tug. “Do want me to keep doing that?”

“Yes … please, yes …” The change in pet names from babe to baby flips switches inside Kurt’s brain, lighting him up from the inside like the forks of electricity dividing the sky. Sebastian’s thrusts remain shallow but they pick up in pace, and his hand, traveling leisurely from the base of Kurt’s cock to the head, matches it. Kurt tries to move his hips, help Sebastian out, but that’s met by Sebastian’s hands stopping in their tracks.

“Uh-uh-uh. None of that,” Sebastian teases. “I like you at my mercy.”

“Sebastian …” Kurt says, a plea and a warning all at once.

“Now you stay still,” Sebastian says into Kurt’s shoulder, his hot breath tickling Kurt’s skin, “and I’ll give you what you want.”

Kurt swallows hard, lies still, but that’s not his first instinct. His first instinct is to argue, to say he’d like to be an active participant in this act of love that they’re sharing thank you very much! But there’s nothing wrong with taking every once in a while without needing to give.

Or being helpless with someone you love.

Good things do come to those who wait, and Sebastian had said that Kurt was a good thing.

Sebastian starts up again when Kurt gives him no indication that he’s going to move, going as excrutiatingly slow as possible to begin with, probably to put Kurt in his place. Kurt clears his mind, lets the frustration in his body take a sidebar as he concentrates on the rain. The floating sensation comes back as the wind picks up, seeming to mirror Sebastian’s movements. Or maybe Sebastian is the one doing the mirroring, linking his stroking, his thrusting to the rhythm of the weather.

Sebastian is the first to signal how close he is to cumming by moaning Kurt’s name.

“Kurt … oh, God, Kurt … you feel amazing, Kurt …”

“Sebastian,” Kurt murmurs, taking advantage of the only body part he’s apparently allowed to move. “Sebastian …”

“Yes, Kurt …” Sebastian moans, voice changing, not entirely his own but an amalgam of what he’s doing, who he is when he’s around Kurt. “Say my name again. Please …”

“Sebastian … Sebastian …” Kurt chants, first out of request, but then over and over until Sebastian’s name doesn’t sound like a word anymore. But it’s not just a word. It’s the word, the only one he can think of, one he starts crying as his fighting not to move makes him cum harder than he ever has before. And when he’s done cumming hot over Sebastian’s hand, he keeps saying it, his throat dry with it until it is literally the last word on his lips.

“There,” Sebastian pants, shivering bodily as what’s left of his second orgasm evaporates into Kurt’s body. “I hope that made up for me finishing early.”

Kurt smirks. “It was … acceptable.”

“Acceptable, huh?” Sebastian says, and Kurt can hear him smirking, too.


“A-ha. Well, I know me,” he says, retrieving his wet tee from the floor to clean them both up with, “and I’m excellent.”

“If you say so.”

“How do you feel?” Sebastian asks in a softer, less teasing tone, one that sends the liquid warmth of a long, relaxing orgasm pooling in Kurt’s stomach shooting out to the rest of his body.

“I feel …” Kurt rolls his head to look up over his shoulder at Sebastian “… radiant.”

Sebastian drops his head, giggles into Kurt’s neck. “Jesus Christmas, Kurt! We’re not in a Jane Austen novel! You could use a normal word like good … excellent … bitchin’.”

Kurt snorts. “Bitchin’?”

“It’s a word!” Sebastian giggles again, offering up no excuses for his horrendous vocabulary.

“I’m sure it is. That doesn’t mean we should use it,” Kurt counters, which makes Sebastian giggle more. Kurt removes himself from his boyfriend’s flaccid, overworked cock, rolling onto his side to face him. “Sebastian …”


“Can I ask you a question?”

“Go for it.”

“Why me?” Kurt asks, inching closer, lips ghosting Sebastian’s mouth, enticing him to answer.

“What do you mean?” Sebastian asks, rising to the bait of a kiss … then another …

“I mean, of all the boys you could have chosen for your ruse, why me?”

Sebastian stops kissing Kurt, which Kurt had been trying to avoid. Sebastian rolls his head on his shoulders and huffs into the air, as if this question is beneath him. Or so far behind them, his motives don’t matter. “I told you. My dad …”

“I know what you said,” Kurt interrupts gently, sliding down Sebastian’s body to rest his head on his shoulder. This may not be the time to ask, but he can’t shake what Charlotte said … He chose you for a reason. So why won’t Sebastian tell him what that reason is? “But I’ve always found that a little difficult to swallow. How in the world was I the first person that came to mind? You go to Dalton Academy. There has to be tons of boys from prestigious families with more impressive pedigrees than me. Boys that you could stand better, that you wouldn’t have to fight …”

“Fighting with you is half the fun,” Sebastian says, clicking his tongue.

Kurt gazes at him, eyes imploring. “Tell me the truth, Sebastian? Please?”

Sebastian sighs, fingers fidgeting, tapping against Kurt’s spine. Like he’s playing a piano, Kurt thinks for a second time this trip till he it dawns on him. No. Like a violin.

“You’re right. There’re a lot of boys at Dalton from so-called prestigious families, with money and connections and yada yada yada. Boys who’ve been after me since I enrolled in school, who watch me everywhere I go with disgusting moon eyes. Boys who would do anything I ask them to with the snap of my fingers.” Sebastian stops tapping, his fingertips moving to Kurt’s cheek, paving feather light paths down his skin. “A lot of polite, vanilla, cookie-cutter Dalton boys. But there’s only one Kurt Hummel.”

Kurt sighs, part frustration, part flattery. “Are you ever going to explain it to me?”

“Maybe.” Sebastian plants a kiss on Kurt’s forehead, his lips coming to rest there. “I just … need to decide how.”

“You could always start at the beginning? Stop when you reach the end?”

Sebastian rolls his eyes and kisses Kurt again. “Where’s the fun in that?”

kurt hummel, juliper, acitw au, acitw, sebastian smythe, glee, kurtbastian

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