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It’s not that Kurt isn’t accustomed to waking up to the sound of someone singing – he does live with Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez nine months out of the year, after all – it’s just that he’s not used to this particular voice and this particular song echoing from this particular shower.
“All you think of lately is getting underneath me, all I dream of lately is how to get you underneath me.”
Kurt rolls his eyes lightly as he lifts himself from the bed, catching a discarded shirt from the nightstand to throw over himself and realizing quickly, as he slips it over his head and the hem sits much lower on his waist than he’s used to, that it’s not his own. Not that he minds, because the worn fabric of the old Dalton shirt is soft and just thin enough that the summer heat doesn’t feel suffocating beneath it. He doesn’t even knock on the door of the en suite bathroom before he opens it, smirking as the voice echoes louder around him.
“Already dreaming about me under you, huh? Being under me last night wasn’t enough?”
There’s a moment of silence when the singing stops, before a soft laugh fills the bathroom and the shower curtain is shoved aside, revealing Sebastian in all his wet, naked glory.
“Now I do believe that there were several different positions last night, and you were underneath me at more than one point.”
“Touché,” Kurt chuckles as he steps over to the sink, wiping up the fog on the mirror with his forearm before eyeballing the toothbrush holder on the counter. “I’m using your toothbrush, by the way.”
“Wha? Why?”
“You called me to come over at midnight. My dad was asleep already and if I made any noise, he would have woken up,” Kurt explains, smirking as he catches Sebastian’s amused expression in the mirror. “I have no toothbrush, therefore I am using yours. It’s not like we haven’t shared other things.”
Sebastian nods sagely, watching Kurt scrub his teeth momentarily before his amused smirk stretches into something much more lecherous. “We could share this shower. Get all wet and slippery together.”
It’s a tempting offer, but the growl of Kurt’s stomach tells him not to take Sebastian up on it. He spits into the sink and answers, “Yeah, no, I’m starving. Dinner last night was fourteen hours ago. And we already showered together last night. Washing your hair too often makes it more susceptible to grease.”
“You could eat—”
Kurt’s laugh is too loud and sudden, cutting off the rest of Sebastian’s suggestion. “Please do not finish that sentence.”
“Killjoy,” Sebastian chuckles as he slides the shower curtain closed again, continuing with his song, singing much more overdramatically now that he knows Kurt is listening.
“You know, you never sing in the shower at your apartment,” Kurt comments, idly fixing his hair with some of the mousse sitting on the counter. “Does being in back in Westerville bring the old Warbler in you out again?”
“My apartment has shitty acoustics. Listen to the echo in here, I swear it’s why my dad bought the place,” Sebastian says, then loudly sings, “It’s! Not! Just all physical! I’m the type who won’t get oh so critical!” as a demonstration.
Deciding his hair’s decent enough for a trip downstairs, Kurt turns around and flicks at the shower curtain until Sebastian shuts up and pokes his head out again, short hair flopped over his forehead and dripping down his face.
“I’m going downstairs to make coffee. Your dad’s still gone, right?”
Sebastian nods. “Staying the night at his girlfriend’s. Why?”
Kurt gestures to his lackluster outfit. “Because I am in my underwear and I don’t feel like fighting my way into last night’s skinny jeans just yet.”
“Oh no, at least not until I’m watching you,” Sebastian comments, reaching a wet hand out to snap the leg of the boxer-briefs against Kurt’s pale thigh before Kurt smacks it away with a laughing yelp.
“Oh, just shut up and kiss me, pervert,” Kurt snorts, pulling Sebastian in and pushing their lips together for a brief, hard kiss. “Hurry up or I’ll drink all the coffee.”
“Yeah, yeah, go on, I’ll be down soonish,” Sebastian chuckles as Kurt turns around. “Nice shirt.”
Kurt lifts Sebastian’s t-shirt up over his ass, shaking his underwear-clad behind suggestively as he leaves the bathroom, rolling his eyes again when Sebastian sings after him, “I want you close, I want you!”
Navigating the Smythe household for the first time on his own isn’t as easy as it had been the night before, when Sebastian had shown him to the living room where they pretended to watch The Amazing Spider-Man for half an hour before he’d been dragged upstairs to Sebastian’s bedroom so they could do what Kurt really came over in the middle of the night to do, but he finds the kitchen relatively easily, just off from the living room. He has no idea why Sebastian’s father needs a house this big, especially since both of his children are at college for most of the year, but it’s well-furnished and inviting, even while currently devoid of most human life.
Kurt hums to himself as he familiarizes himself with the kitchen, finding the coffee beans in canisters on the counter, the grinder in the cupboard by the sink, and the coffee maker itself plugged into the wall next to the pantry. The smell of the beans when he opens the canister helps wake him up, not that his boyfriend’s obnoxious singing didn’t already do the trick, and he sighs happily to himself before a voice over his shoulder says, “Nice shirt.”
Kurt’s hands still where he’s dumping vanilla flavored coffee beans into the grinder. The voice is too deep to be Sebastian’s, and he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t be out of the shower so quickly anyway, and Kurt is suddenly self-conscious about just how much his ass cheeks are peeking out of his underwear. He turns slowly, teeth gnawing on his lower lip, and sees a man he’s only seen in photos as of yet.
Sebastian’s father looks just like him, maybe a bit taller with a broader torso, thick-rimmed glasses, and some greying hairs along his temples (and oh god, Mr. Smythe is a DILF and Kurt is suddenly hyperaware of the fact that he is only half-dressed). Luckily, he doesn’t look angry at all, just a little bit confused and a lot amused at this strange boy in his kitchen.
“Uh. Thanks,” Kurt throws out when the silence between them has gone on too long.
“So you went to Dalton?” Mr. Smythe asks conversationally.
“Oh. Yeah.” Kurt nods quickly, trying to pull the t-shirt down to cover his underwear with as much subtlety as he can manage. “For half a year when I was a junior.”
“And you were on the lacrosse team?” Mr. Smythe continues, smirking as he nods at the offending lettering that spells out DALTON ACADEMY LACROSSE on the front of the shirt. “Funny, my son’s last name is also Smythe and he was also team captain during the 2012-2013 school year.”
Kurt opens his mouth, but nothing comes out but an ineloquent uhhhhh.
“He also has a habit of coming downstairs in his underwear. Sebastian, did you magically body swap with someone last night? I must say, this body has much neater hair, good job.”
Kurt stares down at his hands, wringing anxiously in front of his chest, as he replies, “I’m sorry, Mr. Smythe, I didn’t mean to—”
“You can call me Derek.”
“Derek,” Kurt amends. “I’m so sorry. Sebastian invited me over and I didn’t think you were home or I never would have come down in my underwear, trust me, and—”
Derek’s laughter breaks into Kurt’s run-on, and he looks up to see him grinning in a way that makes him look just like his son. “Oh, kid, you’ve got to work on that. I thought you were gonna start crying.”
Yep. Definitely Sebastian’s father.
“Oh, you picked the vanilla beans, good. Any time Sebastian’s down here first, he grabs the Sumatra and I have to pretend we aren’t related for five minutes while it brews. So disgusting. His sister likes it too, it must be something they picked up from their mother,” Derek says with a chuckle, walking past Kurt to grab a tub of yogurt from the fridge and some granola from the pantry. There’s a tense quiet as he fixes two bowls and sits at a barstool by the counter to eat his own, but it disperses when he comments, “Y’know, Sebastian never had boys stay the night, even before he left for school. Even Warbler parties were always at the Duvalls’ or that Clarington kid’s house. Haven’t seen you before...”
“Kurt,” Kurt fills in when Derek trails off.
“Ah, Kurt. That makes sense.”
“Makes sense?” Kurt asks, yet again freezing before he can cram a bite of granola in his mouth.
Derek nods, swirling his spoon around his bowl. “I’m not completely technologically illiterate, I’ll glance at Seb’s Facebook page every so often to see how he’s doing.”
Kurt’s heart immediately sinks into his stomach. He rarely goes on Facebook anymore, so he has no idea what’s come up on his timeline in the five months he and Sebastian have been dating. Hopefully they haven’t been tagged in any incriminating photos by Santana.
“O-oh?”
Derek laughs again. “I told you that you needed to work on that scared look! Relax, Kurt, I just mean that ever since a tagged photo of the two of you at a New Year’s Eve party popped up, he’s been suspiciously happy-go-lucky.”
“Oh.” Kurt blushes and tries to busy himself rummaging around for mugs, murmuring a bashful thank you when Derek tells him they’re in the furthest cupboard to the right. New Year’s was the night that Kurt and Sebastian became official, after too much alcohol prompted them to finally spill their feelings for each other. The picture in question had been taken by Rachel right after their midnight kiss, when they were still tipsy and too wrapped up in each other to care that she was shoving a camera at them. “Maybe he made a really good resolution.”
“Maybe,” Derek agrees. It’s quiet again after that, just for a few minutes until the coffee maker beeps. He stands beside Kurt then as they fix their cups.
“You know,” he begins, “if you and Sebastian are together, you can tell me.”
Kurt doesn’t know if the feeling he has at that moment is relief or even more anxiety building up. He buries his face in his mug for a moment, breathing in vanilla and coffee and cream, before he sighs and answers, “Yeah. Yeah, we are.”
It isn’t as if their dating was a secret or anything. Rachel, Santana, Dani, and everyone else at Dani’s New Year’s party basically knew from the moment it happened, and Burt and Carole found out over the phone a week later when Kurt let it slip that he had missed their earlier phone call because his boyfriend had dragged him to a Knicks game. Sebastian had wanted to wait and tell his own father in person, his reasoning being that he’d never had a real boyfriend before and he wasn’t so sure his dad would believe him over the phone, but too many work obligations and flight complications meant that five months had passed before Sebastian and his father were even in the same state for enough time to introduce Kurt. Now, he guesses, is as good a time as any.
Derek takes a small sip of his coffee, humming thoughtfully as it hits his tongue, and says, “Okay. Cool.”
“Okay?” Kurt questions, his voice a little frantic. All of that, and his answer is just “okay, cool”?
“Yeah. Okay.” Derek shrugs. “I kind of figured it out anyway—Sebastian mentioned going to the ballet once, and I know he likes to dance, but the New York Ballet? Not his thing, not unless someone was sweetening the deal. When his mother and I were still together, she’d bribe him and his sister to go see The Nutcracker with extra Christmas presents. We never actually gave them extras, but they never knew that.”
“Dad, I am scandalized,” comes a much more familiar voice from the doorway. Sebastian’s leaning against the frame, freshly showered and dressed in shorts and a plaid shirt. “Elle and I sat through that year after year and you’re telling me those Disneyland Paris passes weren’t extra gifts?”
“Withholding information seems to be a Smythe trait, eh Seb?” Derek smirks and Sebastian pales. “I just met your boyfriend. You steal his clothes or something?”
Kurt makes sure his bare legs are safely hidden behind the counter and vows never to leave any room ever again unless he’s wearing pants.
“Might’ve,” Sebastian laughs, only a little nervously. “In my defense, he used my toothbrush and some of my hair products.”
Kurt glares at him playfully as Sebastian swings around the counter to pour himself a cup of coffee. Unlike his father, he grimaces when he pulls his mug away. “You fucking weirdos and your vanilla coffee.”
“I guess this is the part where I give you both the protective father speech?”
Sebastian raises an eyebrow at his dad. “Or you could not and say you did. I’ll testify to Maman and everything.”
“It’s not your mother the two of you have to worry about, you know Elle’s gonna get on her baby brother for getting a boyfriend and not telling her about it.”
“Oh, as if Elle doesn’t already know. I got the call two seconds after the New Year’s picture went up. ‘Sebastian Alexander motherfucking Smythe, how dare you not tell me about your cute love interest!’ to which I replied, ‘Eleanor Lydia motherfucking Smythe, get a life.’“
“Anyway, oddball son of mine,” Derek says, smiling. “I’m happy if you’re both happy. I’d prefer to see my son’s boyfriend clothed, but if this is what floats your boat, uh... warn me in advance, I guess. You’re, what, nineteen? Twenty?”
“Twenty-one last week,” Kurt answers bashfully.
“Right, so it’s not like child porn or anything, but I still would rather not wake up to half-clothed kids running around, gotcha?”
“Gotcha,” Kurt echoes, but Sebastian counters, “In his defense, you’re supposed to be at Melissa’s.”
“Liss was on call, she had to go in early today,” Derek explains. “I just barely got home.”
“Oh god, Dad, please don’t tell me when you’re on a walk of shame.”
“Now you see how I feel.” Derek subtly nods to Kurt and Kurt really just wants to disappear forever. “Since I don’t have to give you the ‘please don’t get pregnant’ talk, you are free to go. I’m gonna pop into the office for a few hours, so if you wanna run naked, feel free. Just not outside the property or I’m pretty sure the Armstrongs next door will get you arrested.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sm—er, Derek,” Kurt replies with a cordial smile. “And I am definitely going to go put pants on.”
“Killjoy!” Sebastian says again, trailing after Kurt with his coffee mug still in hand for the walk back upstairs. “So that was my dad.”
“Really? I couldn’t tell,” Kurt jokes. “He’s... different.”
“Yeah, well, he was seventeen when Elle was born and nineteen when I came along, so he’s not exactly Burt Hummel levels of mature with us.”
“You’ve met my dad. He laughs at Spongebob,” Kurt corrects, finally spotting his jeans on Sebastian’s floor and working them over his hips. “Very mature.”
“Mm, c’mere,” Sebastian hums once Kurt finishes buttoning them up. He thumps his mug down on the nightstand and pulls Kurt into his lap where he sits on the bed, ghosting their lips across each other’s. “Everyone knows we’re dating now,” he murmurs. “No more hush-hush, ‘look at us, we’re so fucking coy and cute.’“
“So they do,” Kurt agrees, nipping softly at Sebastian’s lower lip.
“You know, you look kinda hot in my lacrosse shirt.”
Kurt pulls back, puffs his chest out slightly. “Yeah? You into the barely legal high school jock thing?”
“I could be, if it was you,” Sebastian answers. “That shirt would look a hell of a lot better on the floor, though. Same with the jeans.”
His hands are starting to work open the button when Sebastian’s shoved backwards and Kurt jumps off of his bed, grinning triumphantly.
“Oh, hell no, I just had to meet your dad in my underwear. These are staying on for a while.”
Sebastian’s agonized groan is the sweetest form of payback, Kurt decides.