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It was 2:14a.m. when Kurt was woken by the buzzer, and he fleetingly remembered something Sam Evans had told him back in high school: Nothing good happens after 2a.m.
Kurt pulled on a bathrobe without bothering to see whose it was. He figured it was Connor at the door, anyway, because who else would be here in the middle of the night? Kurt was worried, then, and slightly panicky. Was something wrong? Why had Connor come home? And why didn’t he have his keys? Bypassing the broken intercom, Kurt hurried down the stairs and to the door of the small apartment complex, opening it quickly.
He stopped short, breathing heavily, and blinked.
It wasn’t Connor at the door.
“Kurt,” the person standing there said with wonder.
The light above the front steps was dim, but not so dim that Kurt couldn’t make out who his late-night visitor was.
“Sebastian,” Kurt breathed, more as a reaction than a voluntary decision.
Sebastian leaned forward then, slowly, but lost his balance and stumbled. Kurt reached out on instinct, grabbing his forearm to keep him steady. Sebastian looked up at Kurt’s face, staring intently.
“Sebastian, are you-“ Kurt wrinkled his nose at the smell of scotch he could now definitely detect. He let go of Sebastian’s arm, pulling away. “Of course you’re drunk. What are you doing here?”
Sebastian grinned lethargically. “I was in the neighborhood,” he said, the words melting together.
“What the fuck were you doing in this neighborhood?” Kurt asked harshly.
Sebastian shrugged, his grin still plastered on his face. “Okay, maybe I took a train. I was close.”
Kurt rubbed his hand over his face, wishing that this could be a dream, or something. But it wasn’t. And as much as he wanted to shut the door and go back up to bed, he knew he couldn’t do that.
“Are you alone?” He finally asked.
“So alone,” Sebastian muttered, his grin fading slightly. “All by myself.”
“You were drinking by yourself?” Kurt’s eyebrows drew together.
“I was with some people,” Sebastian said, wrinkles forming on his forehead as he tried to remember. “…before I took the train.”
Kurt groaned in frustration. “Goddamnit, Sebastian. You always hang out with such dicks.”
“I told them to go,” he insisted, his dilated eyes widening. “I wanted to see you.”
Kurt sighed, looking at the light above Sebastian’s head as he said, “You can’t be here, Sebastian.”
“Why not?”
Kurt continued to avoid Sebastian’s gaze. “You know why.”
Sebastian’s voice was soft when he answered. “I just wanted to see you.”
Finally, Kurt looked at Sebastian again. “We can’t see eachother anymore,” he reminded Sebastian fiercely. “I thought we agreed on that.”
Sebastian leaned in, bringing his face close to Kurt’s. “I’m not very good at keeping promises,” he whispered.
“Yeah,” Kurt replied coldly, reaching out and pushing Sebastian back a step. “I know.”
They were tensely quiet for a moment, the only sounds those of distant traffic.
“I don’t live alone anymore,” Kurt told Sebastian.
Sebastian shrugged. He’d imagined as much. “I haven’t been home in five days,” he confessed.
Kurt’s stone-cold veneer collapsed, and his face changed to an expression of concern. “Where have you been?”
“Everywhere.”
“When did you last sleep?”
Sebastian shrugged. “I don’t remember.”
Kurt bit his lip before replying. “Seb, you can’t do this anymore. We broke up because you were a mess. We both were. You should be better without me.”
”I can’t be without you. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just-“ Sebastian’s voice cracked. “I miss you.”
Kurt exhaled sharply, staring at the man in front of him. “Sebastian, we can’t-“
“I know,” he said, stepping backwards clumsily. “It’s okay. I’ll leave.”
“Where are you going to go?” Kurt asked hopelessly.
Sebastian shook his head, shrugging.
Kurt sighed. “Listen,” he said. He knew that he shouldn’t do this. That this was wrong on so many levels. But he couldn’t just leave Sebastian out on the street, drunk and alone. “Just…stay here tonight. Get some sleep, sober up. Then go home in the morning and get your shit together.”
Sebastian paused, his mouth opening slightly. He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t live alone.”
“He’s not here,” Kurt said, and already he felt guilt settling in his stomach, even though he hadn’t technically done anything wrong. “He’s in Long Island visiting his parents.”
“He’ll be gone all night?” Sebastian asked.
Kurt nodded.
Sebastian stared at Kurt for a moment before stepping towards him again. “Okay,” he breathed.
Kurt let Sebastian in and closed the door. He brushed past Sebastian and started up the stairs. “Come on,” he called softly when Sebastian hesitated at the foot of the stairs.
Sebastian nodded and followed Kurt up.
Kurt flicked on the lights when they arrived back in the apartment. Sebastian blinked rapidly, squinting and looking around. “It’s really nice.”
“Thanks,” Kurt said simply, even though most of the décor wasn’t his. He still mostly felt like a guest in the apartment, only having lived there for a couple months so far. “How did you know I lived here?” Kurt asked suddenly, realizing that the lease wasn’t under his name.
“Santana,” Sebastian said, moving towards the couch and falling heavily onto it.
“Santana told you?” Kurt asked incredulously.
Sebastian shrugged. “I might, have maybe bribed her.” He smiled guiltily.
Kurt muttered a few choice words about Santana under his breath, then headed for the hall closet. He pulled out a couple extra blankets and pillows, carrying them back to the living room. “Get up,” he ordered Sebastian. “Let me make up the bed.”
Sebastian managed to get off the couch, and watched as Kurt pulled the coffee table away and pulled a bed out from the couch. Kurt carefully laid out the pillows and blankets, in that orderly, precise way he’d always had. Finally, he stood back, the bed made. “You can sleep here,” Kurt said.
Sebastian nodded, staring at the other man. “Okay.”
“Goodnight,” Kurt said, avoiding Sebastian’s eyes, and started to head back down the hallway.
“Wait,” Sebastian said. Kurt paused, turning around.
“What?”
Sebastian swallowed. “I’m not tired yet.”
Kurt closed his eyes momentarily. “Jesus Christ, Sebastian. You probably haven’t slept in days. How can you not be tired?”
Sebastian shrugged, even though he knew the answer. He just hoped Kurt wouldn’t figure it out.
Unfortunately, Kurt was just as clever as he used to be. “Seb,” he said sharply, walking quickly back into the room and standing right in front of Sebastian. “Please tell me you haven’t started again.”
“Started what?” Sebastian played dumb.
“You know what,” Kurt said, his whole face twisted in concern and worry. He reached up and pressed his hand to Sebastian’s forehead. “You’re warm,” he whispered. “You have been, haven’t you? You’ve been doing coke again.”
Sebastian closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of Kurt’s hand on his skin until it withdrew. He opened his eyes, taking in Kurt’s face, perfect even when etched with unease, up close for the first time in ages. “Just this week,” Sebastian admitted. “No more than that.”
Kurt’s head dropped forward, and he held it in his hands before looking up again. “Okay,” he said finally. “I’ll stay up with you. Do you want tea?”
Sebastian nodded, a smile slowly forming on his face as he watched Kurt turn and walk away towards the kitchen, his dark green bathrobe trailing on the ground behind him. Sebastian sunk down onto the pull-out bed, running his fingers over the soft blanket. He looked around the room, his eyes darting from one thing to another. He knew a good portion of it wasn’t actually Kurt’s. He didn’t know the name of Kurt’s new boyfriend, or anything about him- Santana had only given him an address in Brooklyn, which he’d made his way to with the help of the guys he’d been partying with, a hand-drawn map from a helpful homeless woman, and a shitload of luck. He couldn’t believe he was actually here. That Kurt was letting him stay. Was he really here? Was this a dream? He’d dreamt of it so many times. Or maybe it was a hallucination? He didn’t know where they’d gotten the coke, who knows what it had been laced with? What if he was lying on a street somewhere? What if he was dead?
But then Kurt returned to the room, two steaming mugs in his hands, and Sebastian figured that if he was dead, at least he’d somehow gotten into heaven.
Kurt sat down on the bed next to Sebastian, their knees only an inch apart. He handed Sebastian one of the mugs. “Careful,” Kurt warned. “It’s hot.”
Sebastian nodded, bringing the mug to his face and feeling the steam wash over him. He remembered weekend mornings in his apartment, when Kurt would make them tea and they’d drink it in the kitchen and the morning light would shine off of Kurt’s skin. He remembered when he started coming home high more often, and Kurt would make tea to calm him down. Sebastian couldn’t remember the last time he’d had tea, but it must have been with Kurt. Kurt was the only one who ever made it for him.
“Sebastian,” Kurt said softly. “What are you doing?”
Sebastian shrugged. “I don’t know. I just…everything was wrong. I had to get away from it.”
“What about work?”
Sebastian snorted, steam shooting up his nose. He coughed slightly before answering. “I got fired.”
Kurt’s eyebrows creased further. Sebastian wished he could reach forward and stroke his hand against Kurt’s face, smoothing it out. He didn’t like worrying him. “Fired? Why?”
Sebastian looked into his mug. “Came in drunk one time too many, I guess.”
Kurt sighed. “Why is this happening now? Isn’t time supposed to make things better?”
Sebastian didn’t take any offense at the fact that Kurt assumed Sebastian’s terrible state was because of him. If that wasn’t true, Sebastian wouldn’t be sitting there on Kurt’s boyfriend’s pull-out couch.
“I don’t know,” Sebastian muttered. “Not for me.”
Kurt sipped his tea, and Sebastian followed suit. It was warm and soothing.
Kurt felt hopeless. He didn’t know what to talk about- clearly Sebastian was a mess, and as worried as Kurt was, he didn’t really want to hear about Sebastian’s five-day binge of partying and no doubt hooking up. Nor could he tell Sebastian anything about himself, because then he’d have to talk about Connor, and he couldn’t do that, not to Sebastian. And what do two people who were once fiercely in love say to eachother once they’re estranged? It’d been a year since they’d spoken, since they’d even seen eachother. New York was a big city, and they’d easily lost one another once they decided they wanted to. It wasn’t until one of them had come looking that they’d been reunited.
“Kurt,” Sebastian mumbled. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Kurt said.
Sebastian shook his head. “No, I mean, for everything. For being here now, yeah. But for, for…for everything else, before. I’m sorry for falling apart and blaming you and I’m sorry we couldn’t last, and I’m sorry I was so terrible to you at the end.”
Kurt stared at Sebastian and rememberd the last time they saw eachother, so long ago- Sebastian’s hair had been damp from the shower, and he’d been wearing sweatpants and a gray T-shirt. He’d been pale and red-eyed and irritable. He was fully and completely sober for the first time in days. After a night of sobbing they’d both decided that they had to be completely clean before they officially broke up. So they’d waited two days with nothing to ease the pain, and finally had the talk that lead to Kurt moving out of Sebastian’s apartment, and their agreement not to talk or be around eachother anymore. Kurt had loaded his things up, gotten into a cab, and not turned back.
“It’s okay,” Kurt assured him, cautiously resting a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault, or mine. We just…weren’t right for eachother.”
“Maybe,” Sebastian said softly, watching as Kurt’s hand slid off of his shoulder and returned to the mug.
Kurt watched as Sebastian drank his tea, and they were quiet for a while. Mostly Sebastian looked around, his eyes moving less rapidly as time went on, and Kurt watched him. As he finished the tea, Sebastian’s eyes landed on Kurt. He reached forward, taking the edge of Kurt’s robe between his fingers. He tugged on it to straighten the fabric and read the letters embroidered on the breast.
“Connor,” Sebastian breathed. He let go of the soft fabric. “So that’s his name. Monogrammed robes. Cute.”
Kurt frowned, setting his mostly empty mug down on the table and tightening the robe around him. “Yeah,” he replied. “We’re cute.”
Sebastian sighed, glancing out the window. “I think I can go to sleep now,” he said. “Thanks for the tea.”
“No problem,” Kurt answered, standing up and stepping back. He and Sebastian stared at eachother for a moment. “Goodnight,” Kurt said.
“Night, Kurt.”
Kurt turned and left the room, hearing the couch creak as Sebastian settled in under the covers. Kurt flicked off the light and went back to the bedroom, where he fell back into bed, among the sheets that smelled like his safe, familiar boyfriend.
…
When Sebastian woke up, Kurt was standing over him with a mug.
“Hi,” Kurt said.
“Mmmrph,” Sebastian answered, rubbing his eyes.
Kurt smirked. “Here,” he said, setting the mug down on the table next to the couch. “Black coffee. Enjoy.”
Kurt padded away, and Sebastian pulled himself into a sitting position. He picked up the mug and drained about half of it before looking up again.
Kurt was watching him from the kitchen door. “Do you want eggs?” he asked.
Sebastian knew that Kurt was probably trying to help with his hangover. Surprisingly, he didn’t actually feel that bad. His body felt stiff and his head ached dully, but he’d been much, much worse. Sleep had done him good. He nodded anyway, though, and Kurt disappeared into the kitchen.
Sebastian finished his coffee and then stood up, slowly walking into the kitchen. He leaned against the doorframe, watching Kurt. He had his back to Sebastian, cooking eggs at the stove, wearing yoga pants and a faded blue T-shirt. When Kurt turned around to put the eggs on a plate, Sebastian saw that it was an old Hummel Tires shirt. He smiled fondly. Kurt looked up then and hesitantly smiled back. Sebastian stepped forward and took the plate of eggs that Kurt held out.
“Thanks,” he said, and Kurt nodded. Sebastian leaned against the counter and began shoveling the eggs into his mouth. Kurt was making himself coffee. Sebastian finished and set down his plate, only to notice that his cell phone was sitting on the counter.
“Hey,” he said, picking it up. “What’s this doing here?”
He looked to Kurt, whose eyebrows raised as he poured milk into his coffee. “Oh,” he said slowly. “Um, when I got up this morning it started ringing, so I, um, answered it.” He blushed slightly, picking up his mug.
Sebastian stared at Kurt, puzzled. “Who was it?”
“Your mother,” Kurt answered. “She said she was, ah, pleasantly surprised to hear my voice. Although less happy about how rusty my French is.”
Sebastian stared at his phone, and then back to Kurt. “Oh…kay.”
Kurt had spoken to his mother. God, what had he told her? Yes, Sebastian is at my house, but he’s passed out after a straight week of drinking, snorting drugs and wallowing in sorrow. Oh, you thought we’d gotten back together? No, I plan on kicking him off my boyfriend’s couch just as soon as he’s awake. Au revoir, mademoiselle!
Sebastian ran a hand through his hair. “Thanks for the food, and everything.”
“Of course,” Kurt said. He stepped forward but paused, like he wasn’t sure whether or not he should approach Sebastian.
“I remember that shirt,” Sebastian said, gesturing to Kurt.
“I’ve had it since high school.”
“I know.”
Kurt did move forward then, until he was standing right in front of Sebastian. “Look, Seb,” he said softly, his eyelashes flickering bashfully. “I know that we made that agreement, or whatever. And I think that was good, for a while. But…if there’s ever anything you need, you can come to me, okay? Because I still…” Kurt took a deep breath before continuing. “I still care about you, and I don’t want you to do this to yourself. I want you to be happy. So if I can ever help you, I don’t want you to avoid me because of some stupid promise we made when we broke up.”
Sebastian stared intently at Kurt. “I told you I wasn’t good at keeping promises.”
“You kept this one for a year,” Kurt offered.
“Didn’t do me a whole lot of good.”
Kurt shrugged. “Just focus on now, okay? Focus on what you need now, and not what’s happened in the past.”
Sebastian sighed, shaking his head slightly. “But I know what I need, Kurt.”
Kurt cocked his head to the side, adorably unaware. “What’s that?”
Sebastian smiled wryly. “You can’t tell?”
Kurt shook his head.
“Look around, Kurt,” Sebastian instructed, gesturing to the kitchen around them. “Are you happy? Is this what you want?”
Kurt looked thoroughly confused now. “I, Seb, why is- this isn’t about me-“
“Answer the question,” Sebastian insisted.
Kurt nodded slowly. “Yes, I’m happy.”
“Oh sure,” Sebastian agreed. “You’re happy. I mean, you’re content, with your cute relationship and your apartment in Brooklyn and sharing your boyfriend’s bathrobe. But do you feel alive?”
Kurt pursed his lips. “Of course, Sebastian. What do you even mean?”
Sebastian reached forward then, grabbing Kurt’s shoulders and holding them tightly. “Do you feel the way you did eighteen months ago? Do you feel like you’re on top of the world? Like nothing is ever going to be better? Does he feel like the one, the one you want to never let go of?”
Kurt was confused and shocked and unsure, and he shook his head. “I can’t- Sebastian, what you’re asking doesn’t-“
“Don’t,” Sebastian interrupted. “Don’t try and brush it off. You’re comfortable here, I get that. You’ve moved on, or whatever, like a normal person. But what we had was more than comfortable. It was intense and exhilarating and damn scary. Don’t you miss that?”
“We weren’t right for eachother,” Kurt insisted.
“We didn’t know what we had,” Sebastian said. “And we fell apart because we were confused and scared. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do it over, and do it right.”
“Sebastian,” Kurt breathed. “You can’t do this.”
Sebastian sighed. “Kurt, just- answer me one thing, okay? Answer and I’ll leave. I’ll go home and I’ll start looking for jobs and I’ll stop partying and we can both go on with our lives, if that’s what you want.”
“Fine,” Kurt answered, but he could feel his heart rate increasing, and he was already afraid of what Sebastian was going to ask and how he was going to answer.
“Do you remember that night in August,” Sebastian began, “Where we went up to that roof and we screamed?”
Kurt nodded- he could recall it clearly, the wind whipping around him and the never-sleeping city sounding below him, the lights laid out like a million fireflies, and they screamed, yelled at the top of their lungs, curses and ‘I love you’s and unintelligible noises.
Sebastian leaned in, their faces only an inch or so apart. “Does Connor ever make you feel like that?”
Kurt felt cornered. “Sebastian, you can’t-“
“You said you’d answer.”
“I know, but it isn’t the same-“
“Answer me, Kurt!”
“No!” Kurt said loudly, harshly.
It was quiet then, only their strangely heavy breathing filling the space.
Sebastian surged forward and his lips collided with Kurt’s, fast and hungry and powerful. And Kurt didn’t stop him. Kurt didn’t push him away or protest. Instead Kurt pushed back, their lips equally strong and passionate.
“I knew it,” Sebastian mumbled over Kurt’s mouth. “I was right.”
“Shut up,” Kurt replied flippantly, grabbing Sebastian’s face and bringing their lips fully together again.
That was when Connor unlocked the door to the apartment, dropping his duffle bag onto the floor. That was when he heard Kurt in the kitchen, and took the few steps necessary to find him.
That was when Connor walked in, and saw Kurt and Sebastian in their ardent embrace.