Chapter Text
Sunlight filtered through the curtains, sharp and invasive, stabbing through the throbbing haze that had settled in Kurt's head. He groaned softly, turning his face into the pillow in a futile attempt to escape the piercing light and the pounding in his skull. Everything hurt. His muscles ached, his head was swimming, and there was a strange sting across his skin that he couldn't quite place.
He stirred, slowly blinking awake, his vision blurry. The first thing he noticed was the warmth beside him. He was not alone in bed. That realization hit him like a bolt of lightning, his heart racing as he slowly turned his head.
Sebastian Smythe lay next to him, still fast asleep, his face slack and peaceful in a way that made Kurt's stomach flip with a mix of disbelief and dread.
Kurt sat up slowly, grimacing at the soreness that shot through his body. His bare skin brushed against the sheets, and that's when it hit him—he was completely naked. Glancing down at his body, his breath caught in his throat. His skin was a mess of dark hickeys, scratches, and red marks. His chest, his sides, his thighs—all covered in evidence of a night he couldn't remember.
But it was the faint letters on his upper thigh that sent a chill down his spine. SLUT, carved shallowly into his skin, the letters raw and still healing.
"What the hell..." Kurt whispered, his voice barely audible. His stomach churned, a mix of confusion and horror washing over him. He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything from the night before.
Beside him, Sebastian groaned, starting to wake up. He shifted in the bed, his brow furrowing as he blinked groggily, the same disoriented confusion settling over his features as he took in his surroundings. He sat up slowly, wincing as he stretched, clearly sore as well. When his gaze landed on Kurt, then darted to their tangled sheets and their naked, bruised bodies, his eyes widened in shock.
"Fuck," Sebastian muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. His usual cocky smirk was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his face was a mix of confusion and disbelief. "What... what the hell happened last night?"
Kurt shook his head, his eyes still fixed on the word etched into his thigh. "I don't know. I... I don't remember anything."
Sebastian glanced down at his own body, his breath catching as he saw the same marks—hickeys, scratches, bites—that covered his skin. "Neither do I," he said, his voice rough with confusion and a touch of fear. "We were drinking, and then..." He trailed off, clearly trying to piece together the night, but there was nothing. Just a blank space where the memories should have been.
Kurt swallowed hard, pulling the sheet up around himself as if it could shield him from the realization that something wild—something intense—had happened, and they had no idea how or why. "You don't remember carving this?" he asked, his voice shaky as he gestured to the word on his thigh.
Sebastian's eyes widened in alarm as he looked at the faint, red letters. "What the fuck?" He leaned closer, staring at the word with genuine shock. "Kurt, I... no. I don't remember doing that. I wouldn't—" He stopped himself, rubbing his forehead as if trying to force the memories to come back. But there was nothing.
The silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken questions neither of them knew how to answer. Kurt felt a knot tighten in his stomach, the absence of memory only making the situation worse. The physical evidence of what had happened was all over their bodies, but their minds were completely blank.
Sebastian leaned back against the headboard, his hands running over his face in frustration. "How is it possible to remember nothing? We were drunk, but not blackout drunk... were we?"
Kurt bit his lip, trying to think back to the last thing he remembered. "We were at the club, dancing, drinking... shots. So many shots." He winced as a flash of memory surfaced—Sebastian ordering round after round of tequila, the two of them laughing like nothing mattered. Then... nothing. Just black.
Sebastian let out a frustrated sigh. "Same here. I remember dancing with you, calling a cab, but after that... nothing." He looked at Kurt, his expression serious. "But this—" He motioned to their bodies, the marks, the carved word. "This doesn't look like something we'd forget."
Kurt felt a wave of nausea wash over him. "It looks like... a lot happened."
They both sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. The reality of the situation was sinking in, and it left a bitter taste in Kurt's mouth. He had no idea how they'd gotten to this point, no idea how things had spiraled so far out of control. All he knew was that something had changed between them, something wild and reckless had happened, and now they had to face the aftermath.
"We need to figure this out," Sebastian said finally, his voice more serious than Kurt had ever heard it. "We need to know what the hell happened last night."
Kurt nodded, though he wasn't sure where to start. "Yeah... but first, I think we need water. And maybe some aspirin."
Sebastian managed a weak smile. "Yeah. That sounds like a good plan."
They both stood up, wincing at the soreness in their bodies, and started searching for their clothes, which were scattered haphazardly around the room. As they got dressed, Kurt couldn't shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at him. He didn't know what had happened last night, but whatever it was, it wasn't something either of them would forget anytime soon.
And as they headed toward the kitchen, the weight of the unknown still hung heavy between them.
Kurt winced as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. The moment his feet hit the floor, a sharp ache shot up his body, making him freeze in place. His lower half throbbed with a dull soreness that sent a hot flush up his neck. He could barely move without feeling it—especially when he tried to stand. His legs were shaky, and the soreness between his thighs made walking a painful challenge.
Kurt let out a small, involuntary gasp as he took a tentative step, grabbing onto the edge of the bed for support. Shit. His whole body hurt, but his ass... he could feel every bit of strain there, a reminder of just how intense the previous night must have been.
Sebastian glanced over at him, already halfway dressed, and raised an eyebrow. "You okay?"
Kurt bit the inside of his cheek, his face flushing with embarrassment. "I'm fine," he said, though his voice was strained as he tried to take another step, this time with a slight limp. It was clear he wasn't fine at all.
Sebastian's eyes trailed over Kurt's body, taking in the way he moved and the subtle winces he couldn't hide. Realization dawned on his face, and his lips twitched into an awkward, guilty smirk. "Guess last night was... rougher than we thought."
Kurt shot him a glare, though it didn't have the bite he intended. "You think?"
Sebastian winced in sympathy, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Sorry. I'd help if I could remember anything at all, but..." He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Let's just get downstairs, get some water, and figure this out."
Kurt nodded, though each step felt like a small challenge. He moved carefully, still trying to wrap his head around how things had spiraled so far out of control. Every step was a reminder of what they'd done—a reminder of the night neither of them could remember but both were clearly feeling.
By the time they made it to the stairs, Kurt had to grip the railing just to keep himself steady. Sebastian walked ahead, glancing back occasionally, his brow furrowed in mild concern but also trying to keep things light.
"Don't worry," Sebastian teased as they descended, "next time, I'll go easy on you." He shot Kurt a playful smirk, though it was clear even he was trying to make sense of the situation.
Kurt rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the flush creeping up his neck again. "Don't push your luck, Smythe. We can't even remember what happened."
Sebastian chuckled under his breath, though there was an underlying tension in the air. Neither of them knew what to say, how to address the elephant in the room—the fact that they'd clearly crossed a line last night, one they couldn't even recall crossing.
When they reached the kitchen, the bright morning sunlight streaming through the windows only intensified the pounding in their heads. Kurt limped slightly as he headed toward the counter, letting out a small sigh of relief when he could finally lean against something sturdy.
Sebastian opened the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water and handing it to Kurt before grabbing one for himself. They both drank in silence for a moment, the cool water soothing their dry throats but doing little to ease the confusion hanging over them.
Kurt closed his eyes for a moment, leaning his head back against the cabinets. "This is so fucked up," he muttered. "I can't believe we don't remember any of it."
Sebastian sighed, leaning against the counter opposite him. "Yeah, it's... not ideal." He took a long sip of water before setting the bottle down. "But look—whatever happened, it was just one night, right? We'll figure it out."
Kurt opened his eyes, looking at Sebastian with a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. "But how do we figure it out? We don't remember anything. And..." He glanced down at his own body, the soreness a constant reminder of how out of control things had gotten. "I mean, look at us. This wasn't just... casual."
Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, his expression serious now. "No, it wasn't." He met Kurt's gaze, his voice lower. "But we'll get through it. We're both adults. We can handle it."
Kurt nodded slowly, though the unease still gnawed at him. They had no idea what had led to this—what had pushed them into such a wild, reckless night—and it left a strange, uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Sebastian pushed off the counter, stretching a bit as he tried to work out the soreness in his own muscles. "Maybe we just need to move on. Chalk it up to one too many drinks and leave it at that."
Kurt's brows furrowed. "Leave it at that?"
Sebastian shrugged, though there was a flicker of something more serious in his eyes. "What else can we do? We can't undo what happened. So maybe we just... forget it."
The words stung more than Kurt expected, though he didn't know why. Maybe it was because the physical marks—the scratches, the hickeys, the word on his thigh—wouldn't just go away. They were reminders of something he didn't even know how to process.
"Is that what you really want?" Kurt asked softly, his voice carrying a vulnerability he hadn't meant to reveal.
Sebastian's playful smirk faded slightly, his eyes searching Kurt's face. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of the situation hanging heavily between them.
"I don't know," Sebastian admitted after a long pause, his voice quieter now. "But maybe it's better than obsessing over something we can't even remember."
Kurt nodded, though he wasn't sure if he agreed. Part of him wanted to move on, to put the whole mess behind him, but another part—the part that was sore, aching, and covered in bruises—felt like they couldn't just pretend it hadn't happened.
Sebastian looked away, fiddling with the bottle of water in his hands. "Look, let's just take it one step at a time. We're both hungover as hell. Maybe once we feel better, we'll figure out what to do next."
Kurt let out a long breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Yeah... you're right."
For now, all they could do was deal with the aftermath and try to move forward, even if the past was a blur.
Kurt leaned back against the kitchen counter, still nursing his bottle of water, trying to focus on anything but the soreness that seemed to flare up with every shift of his weight. The pounding in his head was beginning to subside, but the ache in his body felt like it was just getting worse. Every bruise, every scratch, every mark felt like a reminder of how completely they'd lost control the night before.
Sebastian was still pacing around the kitchen, restless, occasionally glancing at Kurt with a mixture of concern and something else—something that looked almost like guilt, though he was doing a good job of hiding it beneath his usual cocky facade.
"We could try to retrace our steps," Sebastian suggested, breaking the silence. "Maybe someone at Scandals saw us leave or noticed something. It's not like we just disappeared into the night."
Kurt raised an eyebrow, though he wasn't sure if the idea of asking around was appealing or terrifying. The thought of someone knowing more about what happened than they did was unsettling. "Yeah, because what we really need is more people knowing about our... situation."
Sebastian sighed, rubbing his temples. "I know it's not ideal, but it's better than sitting here, wondering what the hell happened, right?"
Kurt closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the exhaustion settle in deeper. "Maybe. Or maybe we just need to accept that we got drunk, did some crazy shit, and leave it at that."
Sebastian's lips quirked into a half-smile. "Look at you. All 'go with the flow' now."
Kurt gave a weak chuckle, though it lacked his usual sharpness. "I think I'm too tired to stress out about it right now."
Sebastian's smirk faded as he looked at Kurt more closely. "You should rest. You look like hell."
"Gee, thanks," Kurt muttered, rolling his eyes. But the truth was, he felt like hell, too. His body ached in ways that made it clear he needed more than just a few bottles of water and some aspirin. Sleep sounded heavenly, but he was still so rattled, so unsettled, he wasn't sure he could relax enough to fall asleep.
Sebastian leaned back against the counter across from Kurt, folding his arms over his chest. "I'm serious, Kurt. You look exhausted. Why don't you lie down? I'll figure out something for breakfast or whatever."
Kurt glanced toward the living room, eyeing the sofa. It was tempting, the idea of just crashing there for a while and letting his body recover. Sebastian's apartment was strangely calm in the morning light, and despite the confusion and chaos still swirling around in his mind, Kurt felt like he could at least try to relax here.
"Maybe just for a bit," Kurt admitted, pushing off the counter with a wince. He limped slightly as he made his way toward the living room, trying not to let his discomfort show too much. Sebastian watched him go, his expression unreadable as Kurt settled onto the sofa, pulling a blanket over himself.
Sebastian stayed behind in the kitchen, quietly rummaging through the cabinets, probably looking for something resembling food. Kurt stretched out on the couch, his body sinking into the soft cushions as the tension in his muscles finally started to ease. The soreness was still there, but now, wrapped in the warmth of the blanket, it felt distant, less pressing.
He could feel the exhaustion tugging at him, the events of the morning—combined with the hangover and the night before—finally catching up to him. His eyelids grew heavier, his body slowly succumbing to the need for rest. His mind was still swimming with unanswered questions, but right now, none of it seemed to matter.
Kurt's breathing slowed as his body relaxed further into the cushions. His last thought before sleep took over was that maybe, just maybe, things would be clearer when he woke up. Or at the very least, he wouldn't feel so sore.
Within minutes, Kurt was asleep, his body curled up beneath the blanket, the tension finally easing from his face as the chaos of the night faded into the background.
Sebastian glanced over from the kitchen, watching as Kurt drifted off. He shook his head with a faint smile, muttering to himself, "Good boy," before turning his attention back to whatever he was pretending to do, the silence of the apartment settling in around them both.