Chapter Text
Sleep, it seems, has the power to erase or reset our short term memory, especially when the brain is not ready to accept reality after a big change. This is why, after experiencing a big loss, you may wake up in the belief that everything is as it used to be - only to lose it all over again as your brain fully wakes. Or why, on a well-earned holiday after a stressful period, you may feel disoriented waking up in a luxurious hotel room and believe you are late for work or school.
But when your brain is ready, when it's there, you wake up in the same state you went to sleep (if hopefully a little more rested). Your brain switches on like a light, and you're right back in the moment. You are ready.
As soon as Kurt opens his eyes, his brain is there. He's not confused about waking up in the beach house in North Carolina, with the sounds of waves and seagulls in his ears and the fresh scent of saltwater filling the room from the window they had opened to cool down during the night. He is definitely not confused about the boy in his arms, still asleep with his head pillowed on Kurt's chest, an arm and a long leg slung heavy and warm over Kurt's torso.
Kurt remembers exactly what they had been doing, and how they got here. There is still a lot for them to work out, but Kurt knows what he wants now. He is no longer trying to convince himself that it's not, or that Sebastian might not feel the same way.
He knows Sebastian is afraid: afraid of messing it up, going too fast or even too slow; of missing a step or stepping on Kurt's toes in this dance (with a hesitance he has never shown at Penny and Eduardo's, and Kurt's toes can attest to that!). It seems now that Sebastian has finally admitted to himself and Kurt that he may have a heart after all, it has come with a whole new package of fears about having it broken (though the more Kurt thinks about the furtive looks between Sebastian, Julian and Olivia sometimes, they may not be so much new fears; but rather echoes of old ones. There's still a story there. He doesn't believe it when Sebastian says he barely remembers, but there are things that can't be pushed, and this has to be one of them).
But they are together in this, finally, and because Kurt is not exactly without fears either (fierce, yes, but fearless? no), they can discover this new thing together; learn to be the couple inside that they have been projecting on the outside for weeks. Sebastian needs his help, needs him to lead for a while until he finds his footing and confidence, but Kurt is sure he'll be twirling them around the ballroom soon enough, and he can't wait.
When Sebastian starts to wake, Kurt contemplates pretending to be asleep to give him a moment to find himself, but he is too curious. He wants to know if Sebastian is there too, or if his brain has reset and he'll be shocked (or worse: sorry) to find himself in Kurt's arms. What is he supposed to do when that happens? Can he bear the heartache of being erased by dreams, of being forgettable (once again)?
Before Kurt can panic and go down the spiral of despair that he's found himself in since the gala, Sebastian breathes in deeply and opens his eyes, finding Kurt's immediately. His lips curl up into a smile, and Kurt smiles back, releasing the breath he had been holding. Not sorry, then.
"There you are," Kurt whispers.
"Here I am," Sebastian agrees, his voice a little raspy from sleep.
Kurt can see the moment Sebastian realizes what that means, and how much is at stake.
Sebastian's expression freezes, his eyes start darting around, taking in his surroundings. They are really here, by themselves, with no one around to play pretend for. It is just them and all of the yearning and unanswered questions between them, the opportunities, both bad and good; to make this all they never knew they always wanted, or fuck it up royally. His shoulders tighten, and he begins to pull away.
Before he can disentangle himself, Kurt cups his face with his hand. "It's okay, Bas. I'm here too."
The nickname pulls Sebastian back and he looks at Kurt, searching for something in his eyes. Kurt tries not to blink, to send him all the reassurance he can with a single look. I want this, he tries to say. I want you. Please believe me. I want you, for better or for worse; you with your past and your rough edges, your alluring secrets and infuriating sense of humor. You.
Whether Sebastian hears his unspoken plea or not, his green eyes grow less stormy and he stops fighting it. He allows his body to relax and lets out a soft breath that Kurt feels, brushing warm against his face. "Okay," Sebastian whispers, almost inaudibly.
Kurt swipes the pad of his thumb over Sebastian's cheekbone and the small birthmark under his eye. He can feel Sebastian's heart, still thumping rapidly against him. It reminds him of holding a small animal, flighty and alert. He smirks, pretty sure Sebastian would not appreciate being compared to a bird or a pet rabbit. He never liked the Warbler bird metaphor either; he had never been captive nor needed someone to free him from any cage.
His smile is reflected in Sebastian's eyes and they sparkle. "What?" Sebastian demands, his lips already curling up in anticipation.
"Nothing," Kurt whispers reassuringly, now tracing his thumb to the small dimple around Sebastian's smile. It deepens as Sebastian's smile broadens.
"Sure babe," he replies. "Don't share your dirty jokes, see if I care..." His hand tightens a little around Kurt's waist and he turns his face into Kurt's palm, nuzzling it and unknowingly adding to the bunny image.
Kurt laughs and guides Sebastian's face towards his, pressing a light kiss on his lips before Sebastian can ask him to share the joke again. Their lips are dry from sleep, but their bodies remember this dance from the night before and automatically move closer together.
Sebastian's tongue darts out of his mouth to quickly coat his own lips. Kurt does the same, and they kiss again, their lips now softer and slightly slippery, sliding together and over each other, finally slotting into place as Kurt nips at Sebastian's top lip. Sebastian sucks Kurt's lower lip into his mouth, swiping his tongue over it.
After a moment, Kurt pulls his lip away and opens his mouth instead, inviting him in. Sebastian accepts, licking into Kurt's mouth, taking in his breath and running his tongue over Kurt's teeth. Kurt's hand runs through Sebastian's hair, winding his fingers in and tightening a little, angling his head so that he can press closer and meet his tongue with his own. Sebastian breathes in sharply through his nose and, hello, clearly Kurt isn't the only one who enjoys having his hair tugged. He files this information for later.
Meanwhile, he is becoming very aware of Sebastian's thigh, still resting on his hip, and the way every new press and dip brings them closer together. He doesn't think Sebastian's resolution to take it slow has changed overnight, and that means that maybe they should cool down soon. Soon. Just not yet, Kurt's lips beg, just a little more. Sebastian's sighs spell the same words, but one of them has to be the one to keep the pace.
Kurt's stomach makes the decision for them by growling loudly.
Sebastian snorts and chuckles a little against Kurt's lips. For a moment, Kurt is afraid he will tease him for making an unbecoming noise (Kurt's mind supplies a broad selection of clichées about ‘ladylike appetites' and other effeminophobic crap because that is what Sebastian might have said eons ago, and in some part of his brain Kurt still expects him to be that guy; he is still conditioned to believe it's his fate in life for boys like Sebastian to dish it out and for him to bear it) and the mood is effectively killed. He can't keep up a kiss if he has to brace for ridicule.
Kurt decides to let it be a sign and pulls away. He is comforted by the fact that Sebastian, his eyes wide and green and dark, looks just as sorry about this as Kurt feels, and not at all like he was about to say anything rude.
Kurt sits up. "Do we have any Oreos left from yesterday?" he asks.
"Don't think so," Sebastian replies, slowly resigning to the fact that they have stopped making out, and adjusting the sheet around his hips. The rest of his body looks sorry for the pause of their activities too. "Why don't you just try the kitchen?"
Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Try it for what? A wish-fulfilling genie?"
He hasn't brought any food, and apart from the cookies Sebastian had brought for breakfast the morning before, Kurt is pretty sure he hasn't packed anything either (Sebastian thinks cookies are a valid breakfast, after all). Yesterday, Kurt had figured they'd just drive to the nearest place in the morning and stock up for their stay.
He had initially planned to do that after their arrival the night before, but the sight of the ocean and standing there in Sebastian's embrace had driven all practical thoughts out of his mind.
Kurt smiles at the memory; Sebastian's excitement to show him the sea was maybe even bigger than his to see it, like it was some kind of present Sebastian had personally picked out and put there for him to find. It reminds Kurt a little of Finn in the weeks before Christmas, when he is all beaming smiles and hints until he inevitably reveals his Secret Santa by accident a few days before Christmas morning. Every year! But Sebastian's embrace and his voice murmuring in his ear had made Kurt feel far from brotherly, and suddenly all Kurt had wanted was to go inside with him, to unwind after the long drive and relax in each other's arms; to kiss, and do other things that people did when on a romantic getaway at a private beach.
That does not help their current situation though, and Kurt glances at Sebastian to ask what he is supposed to check for in the kitchen.
But Sebastian has rolled onto his back, a freckled arm thrown over his face, fully committed to stretching his long limbs and popping his joints like he has out-slept Rip Van Winkle.
Kurt shakes his head and gets up, figuring that even if he's pretty sure no Oreos will magically appear in the kitchen, he might find a pack of coffee leftover from the Smythes' last visit, and they can take it from there. He smoothes down his t-shirt, and with one last longing look at Sebastian, leaves the bedroom.
As he reaches the kitchen, Kurt realises he has, once again, underestimated the luxuries money can buy. At a beach house that is only in use a few weeks a year, he'd expect at least a small layer of dust or tracks of the fine sand that blows in as soon as a window is opened. Maybe some cobwebs, empty shelves or some food items gone over their use-by date. But the surfaces are immaculate, and what is more: the kitchen is fully stocked. Kurt tsks to himself.
Of course the Smythes have people to keep the place ready for use. Their people probably have people. Even with their trip as short-notice as it was, all it would have taken was a call and a paycheck to get everything prepared for them.
There is a vacuum-sealed bag of unground dark roast coffee beans and a measuring spoon sitting next to a professional-looking espresso machine, aluminium surfaces polished to a shine. A look inside the fridge reveals fresh milk, chilled white wines, champagne, coke, bottles of what Kurt has come to know is Sebastian's favourite beer, and neatly wrapped packages of cheese and cold meats. In the pantry, there's boxes of crackers to go with the cheese, cornflakes and other non-perishables (but all, Kurt notices, still within their use-by date). Fresh baguettes poke from a paper bag on a wooden cutting board, smelling crispy and delicious. A large fruit basket sits on a side table, drops of condensation beading on the pears and apples. It can't have been sitting out long, confirming Kurt's suspicions that a discreet delivery person, a valet key to the pantry and a big paycheck were involved. They must have stocked up this morning while he and Sebastian were still asleep.
As Kurt glances over the arrangement, he notices a card stuck between the spiky leaves of the pineapple. He carefully retrieves it and reads its printed message, courtesy of a local food market.
Welcome home! We hope you'll find everything you need. We took the liberty of making a reservation for two at Rolande for Friday at 8, and that's the last of our meddling! Take good care of each other and enjoy the last days of your summer. See you in two weeks!
Mom and Dad
P.S. Julian says 'you're welcome for the bathroom supplies.' He insists they'll come in handy.
Kurt frowns at the end of the message, his curiosity piqued despite his growling stomach. He takes the note with him and walks to the bathroom.
"I don't know what I expected," he mutters as he opens the cabinets. A family value pack of condoms and a large pump bottle of lube are hidden in plain view between the fluffy towels.
Kurt briefly tries to imagine the look on the person's face whose job it was to go grocery shopping for them, but then, with Julian as a regular guest, maybe they were used to it? He wonders how much the pay is to be the Smythe family's personal condom shopper. Probably more than he made helping out at his dad's tire shop. He is secretly glad he hasn't run into them in his pajamas.
He ignores the contents of the cabinet for now, uses the bathroom, and goes back to the kitchen to make coffee. The espresso machine is loud, grinding and hissing away to squeeze out piping hot drips of caffeine into the tiny porcelain cups Kurt has found in the cupboard. Bizarrely, the sounds and smells remind him of the Lima Bean, though he is pretty sure their espresso comes from pre-brewed capsules rather than freshly ground beans. If that machine was ever this loud, it was because it was decrepit and close to its demise, like his hopes and dreams of NYADA right before Sebastian walked into the door with his offer. It's hard to believe that was only seven weeks ago. So much has happened since then.
Kurt can't help but smile. He'd started off the summer single, heartbroken, and after that fateful phone call, sure he would never get out of Ohio. His future had certainly seemed bleak. Cue Sebastian bulldozing into his life and completely changing that around. They have somehow transitioned from enemies to allies, to sort-of-friends, to actual friends and now…
Kurt's stomach fills with butterflies. Now they have two whole weeks stretched out ahead of them to see if they have a real shot at being something more.
Kurt's eyes sweep around the kitchen as their coffee brews and they land on a picture of what can only be a younger version of Sebastian and Olivia, standing with their arms proudly crossed on either side of a large pile of sand that has Julian's head sticking out, beaming and sporting a retro-looking pair of sunglasses (no, not retro, Kurt corrects himself- Sebastian looks no more than nine or ten in this picture, so they are genuine 90s shades). The look of triumph and glee on little Sebastian's face at successfully burying his big brother brings an equally massive grin to Kurt's face.
As he looks at the photo and links the boy in the photo to the boy who woke up in his arms just now, he knows for sure that he's made the right decision now. The boy, not the dream.
If he's truthful with himself, the decision had been made weeks ago; when the walls between them had started to crumble and this thing began to feel more real. Kurt casts his mind back to not even a week ago, when he'd been trying to convince himself that it would be easy to walk away.
He had told himself over and over that it was okay, that they hadn't taken it too far yet, not beyond the point of no return- that it was all still in the realms of their agreement. He had tried to convince himself that he was only taking what Sebastian had too much of anyway, and that it wouldn't even leave a dent in his bank account. In this scenario, the money was a fair compensation for putting up with the insults and heckling that were a part of the deal. He had assured himself over and over that there was a line in the sand, but he'd not crossed it yet.
Kurt shakes his head. How naive. Over the past weeks, he has crossed the line so many times that he can't even see it anymore.
The first step over it had been the engagement party; that feeling of belonging with Sebastian and his siblings in the kitchen, no longer an outsider to their family - and the way Sebastian had kissed him goodnight (Kurt still wasn't convinced that any of the Smythes had really been watching them).
Every flutter of his heart when Sebastian calls him ‘babe' has been a further step away from it (and god, that was that the biggest shock of them all- he has never enjoyed nicknames, as they were usually derogitory, but fuck if he didn't swoon every time Sebastian called him ‘babe'). It is not the only word from Sebastian's mouth that repeats itself in his mind either, giving him tingles whenever he thinks about him, and every nightly replay of the things Sebastian said to him (or about him) sends him further away from his self-set boundaries.
"I call him mine!" (Another step over the line.)
"I may have taken my dad's car without asking," (Two steps.)
"Do you want to drive?" (That one left the line in the sand miles behind.)
"I'm here…" (What line?)
"I have to do this right with you…" (oh you mean the one on the moon?)
The only way to deal with his conscience had been to move the line. His need to hold on to the one dream from his past he had left -if not KurtandBlaine in New York, then Kurt alone at NYADA at least, had made him justify everything...but now, he just can't anymore. He has left the dream and the line far behind, and he's done pretending.
Kurt never thought he'd be the kind of man who would put romance before ambition- he is a romantic, yes, but also a realist (he had to be, the way he grew up). He has always scoffed at the girls in the movies who change everything about themselves to impress their crush or to keep the guy; giving up their dream to satisfy someone else - Kurt has been in that situation, and he point-blank refused to do just that when Blaine asked him to consider it.
"Come on Kurt, can't you defer for one year? Then we can go to New York together!"
As the memory of that conversation floats into his brain and he remembers how hurt Blaine had looked when he rejected that request, Kurt shuts down the little voice that says ‘maybe that's why Blaine left for the summer?' and ‘nine days'. A bitter taste floods his mouth at the thought of it. Back then, he had his place at NYADA, a scholarship to pay for part of the tuition and a financial aid package for the rest, everything was settled. Kurt thought he had been choosing between ‘staying in Ohio with Blaine' and ‘being in New York and a long-distance relationship with Blaine'; that he could have it all. If he had known that Blaine was going to break up with him not long after that talk, would he have chosen differently? If it had been Blaine or New York?
In his heart of hearts, Kurt knows he would have refused even then. The dream before the boy.
And now? Here he is, financial aid gone and the clock ticking away for him to get the admission fee, and he is choosing the boy after all. The difference is the boy.
Images flash before his eyes, playing back his highlights of the summer so far; kissing under the fireworks on the 4th of July; dancing the night away in a gay bar in Columbus; their catastrophic but hilarious first date; riling Sebastian up in truth or dare at the pool party; Sebastian socializing with his family and showing he knows how to play nice, taking turns driving Sebastian's beautiful car, laughing and singing classic pop hits way too loud.
His eyes travel to the letter from Charlotte and Greg and a new warmth flows through him.
Dreams change, this summer has taught him that. Things change and move on and what you end up with at the end is often better than you originally expected. Maybe he is getting the boy and the dream after all - it's a new dream, one that they can build together.
The espresso machine dings to signal its completion, and Kurt goes through the motions of adding sugar to Sebastian's and a dash of creamer and half a spoon of sugar to his own, focusing on the now. He isn't going to waste one more moment lying to himself.
The line has been crossed, he can't take Sebastian's money, and there is no hope in hell of him getting it any other way in time, so he's not going to worry about it. He is going to take these coffees to the bedroom, sit out on the private porch with his boyfriend (because that is what Sebastian is now, his real boyfriend, and his stomach does a little flip as that word floats around his head. Boyfriend. It's going to take some getting used to, but he likes it - it no longer alliterates like ‘my boyfriend Blaine' but that only serves as a reminder that everything is going to be different this time around) and then he is going to do what Greg and Charlotte have instructed; enjoy the last days of summer.
*****
Kurt puts the cups on their fitting saucers and takes them back to the bedroom. It seems he was not the only one drawn to the porch, as he finds the bed empty and the large french doors thrown wide open, the fresh morning sea-breeze blowing through and making the drapes dance. Through the sheer fabric, he can see that Sebastian is already sitting on the porch swing, wrapped in a bedsheet, looking out over the sea.
Kurt steps out through the doors. He lets his eyes follow the direction Sebastian is looking in, and he stops short. The water, that had been mysterious and overwhelming in the moonlight, looks majestic in the light of morning, all pale blue and pastels, sunlight glittering on the small ripples of the waves lapping at the sand. Again, Kurt feels the humility one feels at being a sole human facing a vast, timeless ocean; and at the same time, also revels in the almost royal satisfaction of knowing this view is theirs alone, their personal treasure. He takes a little more time taking it in, cooling coffees be damned, because this is what it feels like to start over; it's a new dawn, there are no tracks in the sand, everything is washed clean. It is a dawn just for them.
Whatever this place has cost the Smythes, Kurt decides here and now it is worth every penny.
Sebastian turns to face him and smiles. "I see you got your wish," he muses, shifting a little on the swing to make room for Kurt.
"I did, though someone else had already rubbed the lamp for us," Kurt replies.
He pauses and presses his lips together to stop himself from laughing at his own words. He watches Sebastian, who is also fighting the corners of his mouth. They look into each other's eyes, and neither of them needs to elaborate on the joke (a wide range of choices spanning from Christina Aguilera to the pornhub remake of Aladdin). It is clear from their expressions that their minds are both going there. Sebastian shakes his head and chuckles, and Kurt feels a childish bubble of pride rise up in his chest at making him laugh first.
"You knew the kitchen pantry would be stocked, didn't you?" he asks, sitting down next to Sebastian.
"It always is," Sebastian says casually.
"Probably not always," Kurt corrects him. "Just when your parents get someone to fill it up."
"Same thing," Sebastian says, shrugging.
"Not really. It's not like you have house elves. Julian made someone buy condoms for us!"
Kurt tries not to sound too indignant, but it's hard. Even after all the time he has spent at the Smythe's estate, in the heated pool or their luxury cars, the air of decadence Sebastian sometimes exudes still irks him.
Sebastian smirks. "Well, that's good, right?" He studies Kurt's expression, and his smile fades a little. "I'm sure they were well-compensated," he adds, a little uncertain. "My family is not- ...I mean, buying condoms isn't so bad. People will do anything for the right price, right?"
"Right."
The sudden silence between them is worth $9,285.63.
"That's not what I meant," Sebastian offers, and because he notices, Kurt already feels his heart soften. It's no longer like it was in the beginning, when Sebastian would be oblivious about the effect of his words.
"I know," Kurt says, meeting him halfway. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get sanctimonious on you."
Sebastian's smile slowly creeps back onto his face. "You might make a good man of me yet, Kurt Hummel."
Kurt snorts. "I hope not." He hands Sebastian one of the cups.
"Two sugars?" Sebastian asks.
"Yes."
Sebastian nods appreciatively, and Kurt can see he is holding himself back to add any jokes about house elves, so they are good for now.
"This view's amazing," Kurt says, his eyes drawn back to the ocean.
"Told ya," Sebastian agrees, pointedly shrugging the sheet off his shoulders and preening a little before innocently adding "oh, that view. Yeah, it's alright I guess."
Kurt pokes out his tongue, but enjoys the joke anyway. And he's right, it is a good view. Still, for good measure, he adds: "You're not impressing me by being blasé about everything, Sebastian. It's okay to be awed once in a while."
As if admonished into taking the sea seriously, Sebastian dutifully looks at the waves and is silent for a while. Kurt can't help but wonder what is going through his mind. Is he really thinking about the ocean and its mysteries, or is he reminiscing about other times he's been here, strolling over the beach with local boys, maybe?
Suddenly, the delivery person has a face in Kurt's mind- a handsome face, vaguely reminiscent of Jeremiah, with curly, sun-bleached hair, a perfect tan and blindingly white teeth. Not-Jeremiah smiles and holds out a pear. Kurt shakes his head, trying to dispel the image. (If Sebastian really knows the beach house valet that way, then Julian's condom order may have him waiting by the phone for a party invitation. Tough luck, Kurt thinks vengefully, that's not gonna happen). He suddenly feels a lot less bad about making him stock the house.
"I am," Sebastian finally says, and Kurt has to do a double-take to remember exactly what he is replying too. "Awed, I mean."
Kurt does not ask him to elaborate. Whether he means the sea or their whole situation, or both, Kurt feels the same way.
"Do you wanna go out there?" Sebastian asks.
"To the beach?" Kurt asks. "Or into the water?"
"Technically, you need to go to the beach to reach the water," Sebastian says, smirking at himself, and Kurt pushes his arm lightly. "...but yeah- go for a swim, or a walk. Or I could show you the boat." He follows Kurt's quizzical look at the empty beach and adds: "The water's too shallow here. It's docked at the pier in the bay. We could take the car up."
Kurt shakes his head. "As amazing as your car is, I've seen enough of it for a while. But I'd like to go for a swim, maybe. After breakfast."
"Oh, right." Sebastian grins and nods at Kurt's stomach, making a claw of his hand and mimicking a growl.
"I can't help it," Kurt protests. "My body is like a fine-tuned machine and it runs like clockwork."
"Say no more," Sebastian decides, finishing his espresso. "Just sit back and relax, I'll make us some breakfast."
Kurt snorts. "Please don't try to make french toast again? I don't want you to set the house on fire on our first day here. I'd be fine with some fruit and a piece of bread."
"Yeah, yeah," Sebastian grumbles, pulling the sheet closer around himself before getting up. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"
"Never," Kurt agrees smugly.
*****
Twenty minutes, two more coffees and a very decent breakfast selection later, Kurt's stomach has stopped rumbling. Sebastian, who had pretended breakfast was all for Kurt's sake and said he ‘could have gotten by on a coffee and some grapes', has eaten an entire round of brie and half a baguette. It's the salty air, he claims. I always forget how hungry it makes me. Kurt, who has seen him eat cheese on more than one occasion and knows it's a bullshit excuse, smiles pleasantly and agrees. He could argue everything, but then they'd never stop, and he has more plans for their holiday than arguing like an old married couple.
They both reach for the last grape.
"Go ahead," Bas offers.
"No, you have it," Kurt says.
"Sure? Cuz I'm not gonna roll it over to you on the plate with my nose or anything."
Kurt snorts. "Please. I wouldn't expect you to."
He doesn't even really mean it as a dig about Sebastian's projected lack of romance (Kurt knows there's a romantic hidden away in him somewhere, if their date at the sushi place is anything to go by) but he can tell that's how his boyfriend takes it.
Sebastian stares down at the grape a little dejectedly. Then something hardens in his expression and he lets out a huff of breath, squares his shoulders, and pops it into his mouth.
"I bet I can outswim you," he states with his mouth full, and he points at a red buoy floating in the water. "I used to race Julian there and back, and he never beat me. Ever."
Kurt decides to humor him, and replies: "Oh really? Would he back you up on this if I asked?"
"Of course not, but he'd be lying," Sebastian says pointedly. "He'd never admit to me beating him at anything."
"You're his baby brother, what do you expect?" Kurt says, laughing a little. He knows one thing Sebastian has Julian beaten at by far, but for now, he keeps that to himself. Then, he crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow in silent challenge. "And who says I can't outswim you both?"
"Me," Sebastian retorts promptly, cocking his head. "Suit up and bring it, Hummel."
Kurt's eyes glitter. "Okay. Prepare for humiliation, Smythe."
In all honesty Kurt isn't even that good of a swimmer, but he is fit enough, and he can't resist the challenge. The way he sees it; if he wins, he gets eternal bragging rights. If he loses, Sebastian will feel great about himself the rest of the day, and the thought of a happy Sebastian makes Kurt feel warm inside, so it's really a win-win situation.
They clear away the remains of breakfast, and Sebastian offers to get the towels and change in the bathroom so Kurt can put his swim trunks on. Again with the privacy, Kurt muses as he rummages through his suitcase. He appreciates it, and knows Sebastian is just still trying to figure all of this out, but a harmless, platonic oggle of his own boyfriend really shouldn't count as ‘going too fast', should it?
He brought two pairs of trunks with him (so what if he's an overpacker, a boy needs choices) and he pulls both pairs out of the suitcase, laying them next to each other on the bed. The first pair are his own - the same ones that he'd planned to wear to Julian's pool party before the miscommunication disaster that had ensued, and the second pair are Finn's, slightly too long for him and baggy around the middle, but comfortable and probably more practical.
He decides to try his own first and steps into them, practicality be damned. Finn's trunks come almost all the way down to his knees and despite everything that has changed between them, he wouldn't put it past Sebastian to ask if he had brought water wings too.
He takes this moment to ponder the fact that he still hasn't bought a replacement pair; shopping is part of his DNA, after all (if scientists ever dissected one of his cells he's pretty sure it'd be made up of shopping, singing, and excellent skin care), but the fact that he hasn't even considered buying a new pair makes him realise just how much he has changed as a person this summer. Before, the idea of showing too much skin even in front of his boyfriend would have made him balk; but now it kind of thrills him a little. Who knew Kurt Hummel could be such an exhibitionist?
He runs his hands down the sides of his trunks, smoothing the fabric down and shifting his weight from one hip to the other. He does a few stretches and twists, making sure that he can move in them without cutting off circulation and that they're not going to do something embarrassing like rip in half the second he starts swimming.
He can move in them, but they do feel a little tight around the top of his inner thigh and they are definitely hugging his ass more than they did when he bought them last year. He eyes Finn's pair again, wondering if he should go for practicality over vanity, but then scenarios of wardrobe malfunctions that could arise with loose-fitting clothes when the material gets wet and heavy pop into his head and he decides to keep his own trunks on after all.
Feeling even a little more daring, he also decides against a shirt. It's a private beach, after all, and if Sebastian is too chivalrous to sneak a peek as he gets dressed, he's gonna get one when they head out whether he wants to or not. Yeah, maybe Kurt really does have an exhibitionist streak.
Sebastian comes back from the bathroom with two towels over one shoulder. He's wearing sunglasses and a different pair of swim shorts than he had on at the pool party (because of course he would own more than one pair; he may claim shopping isn't his thing but he sure has a big wardrobe). They are loose-fitting and red, like his car, and Kurt makes a mental note to make a Baywatch joke but not just yet, because right now he is just admiring the view.
Sebastian is coming up empty for words too, it seems, and for a moment they just sort of stand there and look at each other. Kurt lets his eyes wander over Sebastian's torso, following the lines of freckles splattered over his skin. A summer spent in the sun has made them multiply in number and Kurt thinks longingly about tracing them with something other than his eyes; his fingers for example, or his lips…
Sebastian clears his throat and effectively snaps Kurt out of his trance. Kurt blushes slightly but notices that his boyfriend is also looking a little flustered, which makes him feel better for the momentary lapse in concentration. He grabs his sunglasses off the nightstand and follows Sebastian out of the room. They walk down the narrow corridor, brushing against each other slightly, and at the touch of Sebastian's skin against his, Kurt feels a hot flush of self-consciousness. Suddenly he is wishing he hadn't picked such a revealing outfit. He almost wants to double back and change, but then at the doorway to the back terrace, Sebastian takes his hand and curls their fingers together. He grins at Kurt widely, squeezing his grip, and the gesture instantly settles Kurt's nerves and he squeezes back.
They make their way down the wooden stairs that lead to the beach. The ground at the bottom is spattered with a few dry, grassy patches and they step around them carefully until they hit smooth, soft sand. Kurt stops for a moment and curls his toes, wriggling them around a little, he lets out a happy little sigh.
Sebastian musters him. "You're not much of a barefoot guy, are you?" he asks fondly.
"I never gave myself the chance to find out," Kurt admits. "Though in my defence, the closest to this Lima gets is their summer ‘beach club' which is basically a parking lot temporarily filled with industrial sand and deck chairs as an excuse to sell overpriced umbrella drinks. And I don't even want to know where that sand has been."
Sebastian smirks. "That sounds gross."
"It is. I don't even like putting my boots in it, let alone my feet. You just know the local kids will get drunk and puke, and then kick some sand over it to cover it up."
"Yeah, we've all been there," Sebastian says, starting up again.
"Oh, not me. The only places I've thrown up were over my school counselor's feet and backstage once," Kurt says lightly. "And in your bathroom."
Sebastian stops again and eyes him critically. "Okay, I vaguely remember one out of the three...but the other two sound like juicy stories."
Kurt wrinkles his nose. "Smelly stories, more like. And maybe some other time, we've just had breakfast."
"You started it," Sebastian reminds him, a little petulantly. "Tease."
Kurt rolls his eyes, and before he knows it, (because apparently he can't refuse Sebastian anything) he's telling him about April Rhodes and how he still feels ill looking at muscle magazines, and then about his NYADA audition and how there was no alcohol involved and he never really found out if that last accident was nerves at being confronted with Madame Tibideaux or just the tight waistband of his golden pants pressing into his gut at every move, but it got him his place at NYADA so he grateful for that day anyway.
He's embellishing his stories because he loves the way Sebastian hangs on his lips, and he had never thought that sharing something about a past embarrassment could be anything else other than, well, embarrassing. Now he's finding out that it's not about the story but about the sharing, and the opening up, as if to say ‘I am a little ashamed that happened but I trust you with the story and I want you to get the full scope of me, mess-ups and all'. He finishes as they reach the shoreline, and Sebastian is looking at him with an unreadable expression.
"What?" Kurt asks, suddenly afraid he has over-shared.
"Nothing. I just...I'm a little relieved to hear I am not the only one who has thrown up backstage," Sebastian admits, shrugging and fiddling with the towels on his shoulder. "The first time I went on stage as Captain of the Warblers, with my whole family watching? It wasn't pretty, I'll tell you that."
Kurt smiles a little because he remembers that performance, and even though they hadn't exactly been friends back then, even he had admitted it was good.
"Apparently the New Directions threw up on stage when I was at Dalton," he confides in Sebastian. "Brittney and Santana actually threw up on Rachel, I am told." It feels a little out of order to tattle on them given their former rivalry, but he and Sebastian are a team now, aren't they? Team Kurt and Sebastian. And it isn't exactly gossip if it had happened for a whole pep rally to see. There are probably youtube videos of it.
Sebastian is staring at him with his mouth open. "Wh-...what?" he manages to bring out.
"There was alcohol involved in that one," Kurt adds. "Rachel mixed it."
Sebastian shakes his head. "How come I am only hearing about this now? And why weren't they expelled? That's outrageous!"
Kurt smirks. "The principal thought it was special effects. But yeah, he also believed Tina was a vampire for the longest time, so…"
"Public school is kinda crazy, huh?" Sebastian concludes, and he reaches down to lay out the towels neatly on the sand.
"Mmm," Kurt humms noncommittally, casting his eyes out over the water, because yes, it was, but he still went back to McKinley semi-voluntarily after his stay at Dalton, because it was the home of his Glee club and his very first friends. It wasn't their fault they couldn't afford better schools.
"When were you at Dalton again?" Sebastian asks, straightening up again. Apparently he was still processing what Kurt had said, and the scandalous bits had overridden the rest for a moment.
Kurt turns to look at him and pulls up the corner of his mouth. "A few months in my junior year," he says. He remembers telling Julian about it when they had invaded his house at 2 am and he and Sebastian had to pretend they had been been sleeping together in his bed when his brother came around- but Sebastian was pretty far gone by then and had probably needed his last sober brain cells to keep up the possessive posturing against his brother.
Kurt doesn't volunteer more information, not sure if he's ready for that part of his life to be discussed while he's out in the open, wearing only swimming trunks and sunglasses. It feels more like a story to be shared in layers; clothes, blankets, possibly a pillow fort, and the cover of darkness.
"Oh, right. That's when I was in Paris," Sebastian says pensively.
Kurt doesn't need the reminder- it was almost all Sebastian (and by association, Blaine) had talked about after they just met. It's a time Kurt doesn't remember very fondly, but he wants to drag that out here at the beach as little as he wants to tell him about David Karofsky, so he chooses another way out.
"Well, you can never resist one-upping me, can you?" he teases lightly. "I go to public school, you go private. I go private, you go French."
Sebastian chuckles and slides his sunglasses down his nose to look at Kurt. "That's me, babe. It's in my DNA." He winks. "But why-"
"Ready, steady, go!" Kurt shouts, drops his sunglasses on the towels and starts to run through the sand towards the water.
"Hey!!!" Sebastian shouts, and sprints after him, whipping his sunglasses off and throwing them behind him in the general direction of the towels. "You play dirty, Kurt!!"
"I thought you knew that by now!" Kurt calls back, laughing breathlessly.
He reaches the water and keeps running, water splashing up under his feet, but he slows a bit because, holy shit that is cold. Sebastian uses the momentum to catch up, and Kurt can't help but admire the way he doesn't even flinch when he hits the water, and it really does tap into some kind of Baywatch fantasy Kurt didn't even know he had to see him pull up his long legs to jump over the waves, his arms tucked in against his torso and a determined look on his face. The only things missing are the slo-mo effect and the theme song. It makes Kurt's knees go a little weak, and if he isn't careful he may actually need to be rescued from the water. Would that be a bad thing?
He tears his eyes away from his sexy lifeguard boyfriend and reminds himself this is supposed to be a race, and even if he doesn't really need to win, he does need to offer a bit more competition than this. He kicks it up a notch and soon they reach water deep enough to swim. He takes a deep breath and dives in, giving no thoughts about the conditioning his hair will need after being drenched in salt water. Maybe he wants to win just a little after all.
Once they are swimming, it's an even match. Kurt can hear Sebastian's laboured breaths next to him, and if he concentrates on swimming and not on the thought of Sebastian's wet and slippery body, the feel and taste of which his body remembers from a time where there was less salt and more tequila and limes involved, then Kurt can keep up.
They reach the buoy at about the same time. Sebastian slaps it with his palm. "Not bad," he says, breathing hard.
Kurt puts his hand on the buoy as well and nods. "You too," he lets out, bringing up his other hand to wipe the salt water out of his face.
"Race you back?" Sebastian asks. Kurt nods. He can feel his arms and legs burn a little from the unusual exercise, but he's in touch with his body and it's not giving out any warning signs beyond a possible muscle ache. He still has some swimming in him.
"Okay, three, two, one, go!" Sebastian says, and lets go of the buoy. Kurt pushes away as well, and they start swimming again.
Kurt can see the shallower part of the beach ahead, where the water goes from deep, dark blue to aquamarine and then green and finally beige where the sand shimmers through. He also sees Sebastian's broad shoulders, dipping in and out of the water as his arms go round in a powerful front crawl. Kurt gave up that technique halfway and is following with a simple breast stroke. It's okay, because the sight of Sebastian rising to his feet from the water is something he might have missed if he was still doing a crawl. Water sluices down his back, and his red swim shorts are sucked tightly against his body, clinging to the curve of his backside and his slender thighs. Kurt slows his breast stroke just to stall for time. Sebastian shakes his head, clearing the water from his face, and droplets fly from his hair in all directions. Then he turns back to see where Kurt is, and he grins triumphantly.
Kurt reaches the sandy shore and rises to his feet as well, sucking in his stomach and flexing his arms just a little when he reaches up to push the hair out of his face, well-aware of his one-man audience. His swim trunks cling to him like a second skin, and it kind of feels like he ought to be carrying a harpoon or wearing a diving knife strapped to his thigh, because his emergence from the ocean is Halle Berry-worthy. It has certainly stopped Sebastian in his tracks. With a small smile, Kurt saunters up to him, wading through the water rather than trying to step over it, and does not stop until they are face to face.
Sebastian is looking at him hungrily, his eyes dark and roving all over his body. Kurt recognises that look, and feels it even more heatedly on his skin now that it's daylight and the world is not veiled by alcohol. He gathers up his last ounce of determination- and pushes past Sebastian, stepping onto the dry sand with both feet and shouting: "Hummel wins!"
"What the f- No!" Sebastian lets out, slapping the surface of the water with the flat of his hand in frustration, sending drops flying in Kurt's direction.
Kurt laughs and moves towards the towels, bending down to pick one up. He walks back to the water and holds it out to Sebastian. "I know," he says, still a little pleased with himself. "That was awful. I am not a very nice person."
Sebastian harrumphs, but steps out of the water and accepts the towel. He dries off his face. "I am just pissed I didn't try that on you first," he says. "Here I was, trying to play fair for once…"
"Oh, you usually cheat, then?" Kurt asks, smirking.
"Of course," Sebastian replies matter-of-factly. "I have to, Julian's eight years older than me, remember? I usually pretend I am drowning, or hit my foot on a rock..." He grins. "Sometimes Liv helps from the shore by shouting that there's jellyfish right in front of him or something. We tried to fake a shark attack once."
Kurt snorts. "Your parents must have loved that. Having their kids play pretend at dying."
"They're used to it. We're all very dramatic," Sebastian says casually. He smiles at Kurt. "You fit right in."
"I'll let you win next time," Kurt promises, feeling warm and generous after Sebastian's words. He reaches for the other towel to wrap it around his hips.
"What else did you and Julian used to compete at when you stayed here? And I want to hear about day-time, PG-rated pissing contests, because it's not even lunchtime yet." Kurt sits down in the sand sand, locking his arms around his knees.
Sebastian snorts. "Well, there were the actual pissing contests-" he starts playfully, plopping himself down in the sand next to Kurt.
Kurt wrinkles his nose.
"Or deep-throating popsicles..."
"Sorry, what?" Kurt blinks, caught off guard, and Sebastian chuckles, pleased that he has managed to shock Kurt again.
"You know those freezies that come in a tube sheathe, and you push them out to suck them-"
Kurt nods, already getting the picture.
"Well, when I was younger, like, way too young to know anything about anything-"
"There was such a time?" Kurt teases.
"I mean when I was about six or something, get your mind out of the gutter, please."
Kurt smirks and dutifully pretends to be admonished. Sebastian rolls his eyes but Kurt can see the laughter dancing behind the green irises; in the sunlight, with the sea reflecting in them, they look almost like emeralds.
"Anyway," Sebastian continues, breaking Kurt from his thoughts again (god what is wrong with him? Focus, Kurt!). "So I was six and for some reason I really liked pushing those popsicles all the way down my throat, or as far as they would go anyway, and Julian, who already knew just about everything about everything, thought it was hilarious, and encouraged me. The first one who threw up or blasted slush through their nose lost."
"That sounds like something Finn and Puck would do," Kurt says, partially amused, partially disgusted.
"Then Olivia caught on, and boy did she school us," Sebastian continues. "She really has no gag reflex whatsoever!"
"That must be nice for Brian," Kurt muses.
"Yeah. Wait, what!? Dude, that's my sister!!" Sebastian lets out, scandalized, and Kurt laughs.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he says. "What else?"
Sebastian shakes himself, frowning at the sand for a moment, obviously trying to think of something that does not give him any more inappropriate thoughts about his siblings.
"Well, sometimes we'd go fishing or crabbing-"
"Crabbing?" Kurt repeats, a little horrified. "As in actual, live crabs?"
"Blue crabs, they're delicious," Sebastian confirms. "Though you can only keep them if they're over 5 inches. Smaller ones you have to throw back to mature."
"Okay, I love a good paella as much as the next guy, but there is seriously no way on earth you are making me hunt and kill my own food. I'll give you that win, and you can throw in a joke about my girlish squeamishness for free," Kurt says, feeling queasy at the mere thought of dealing with seafood when it's still moving.
Sebastian shrugs, passing up on the offer of a good roast (a first, probably). "We don't have to do it. There's loads of other stuff to do here, there's the national parks, the lighthouses, aquariums- or we could just hang at the house. Whatever you want, Kurt." He sounds honest and eager to please.
Whatever you want. If only Kurt knew exactly what he wanted out of all this; how they were going to go forward and grow into this relationship.
"There's another thing we used to do," Sebastian adds before Kurt can get lost in his thoughts again. "Or...I don't know, maybe you think it's childish-"
"What?" Kurt likes these little glimpses of Sebastian's family life, the sibling stories, ones that aren't all bragging and posturing- they are stories of a real family, of a childhood playing in the sun.
"One year we went to Jockey's Ridge State Park at Nags Head, and there was this sandcastle building contest. These guys were like, crazy talented, we're talking real castles with turrets and bridges and balconies, and I felt like I had found my calling. I immediately instituted the Smythe Sand Castle Competition. I was about eight, I think. Julian and I would compete. Mom and Liv were the judges. Dad would watch us dig while the girls went swimming, and when they got back they'd rate what we built. We had several disciplines, like height, style, originality…"
Kurt just looks at him, unable to keep the little hearts out of his eyes. He can just imagine a tiny Sebastian working away in the sand with buckets and shovels, trying once again to beat his big brother at something.
Sebastian's smile falls a little. "When Jules left, Liv tried to take over, but she'd always let me win and it just wasn't the same." He shrugs. "Or maybe she really sucks at building sand castles, I don't know." He pushes his feet deep into the sand. "I haven't built one since Paris."
Suddenly, the question of what he wants to do has been answered. Kurt takes Sebastian's hand and waits until his green eyes meet his. "Challenge accepted," he states.
Sebastian's eyes widen. "For real?"
Kurt grins. "I've never built a sand castle in my life, but I'm willing to give it a try."
The look of pure enthusiasm on Sebastian's face already makes Kurt's impending defeat worth it. He looks years younger, and again, Kurt can't help but think of Finn. There's a little boy in the both of them.
"I'll get the gear," Sebastian says eagerly, scrambling to get up. "And drinks! You want a coke?"
"Uh, sure. Gear?" Kurt asks. Are there official tools involved?
"Yeah. You know. Shovels, buckets, all that stuff. We have loads, they're in the shed!" He darts off and Kurt watches him go, amazed how he can go from sexy and suave to ‘excited puppy' in seconds flat. Sebastian's enthusiasm is infectious and Kurt is already thinking of designs; towers, courtyards, little hedgerows like the garden of Versailles...
Sebastian returns a while later with his arms full of building tools and a cooler bag hanging from his shoulder. "Could you…?" he asks, leaning to the side a little.
"Oh! Yes." Kurt lifts the strap of the cooler bag from Sebastian's shoulder and he shifts the buckets to his other hand so he can extract his arm. He smiles gratefully.
"Thanks. It was getting heavy. Okay, you here, me there?" Sebastian points at two flat areas of sand and plops the tools in the middle.
"Um...sure," Kurt says, and he picks up a shovel and a bucket. He chuckles a little. "I think this one is past its prime," he muses, holding up the bucket. It has no bottom and he peekaboos through it, making a face at Sebastian.
Sebastian smirks. "That's the tamping mold," he says. "It's supposed to be like that. You fill it with wet sand from the top and then-" He stops himself. "You really haven't done this before, have you?"
"What, you thought I was just saying that to be cute?" Kurt asks.
Sebastian shrugs, grinning a little sheepishly. "I don't know, but it was." He looks at the tools. "How about I show you, and we build one together?"
Kurt beams. "I'd like that."
Half an hour later, Kurt has learned how to make a solid base from wet sand, jiggling it until the water binds the sand molecules, and Sebastian has set the mold to create several robust looking towers. He shows Kurt how to connect them with walls and then sits back, looking pleased.
"It looks good," Kurt says, and Sebastian snorts.
"It's just the base. We still need to carve it. I just thought we'd let it set for a moment and have a drink."
"Oh." Kurt looks at him from the side, wondering how much carving and detail the sandcastles of an eight year old would have had. More likely, this is Sebastian trying to recreate from memory something he has seen Julian do. It doesn't matter- he is enjoying himself, and that's what's important. They grab cold cans of coke from the cooler bag and enjoy the sun for a bit.
Then Sebastian hands Kurt a small, flat shovel and a spoon, and shows him how to chisel away at the compacted sand, starting at the top and working their way down. It takes a very delicate hand and steady nerves, but soon enough, the towers have pointed roofs and tiny turrets. Sebastian asks Kurt to continue shaping turrets on the walls while he mixes more wet sand. As he starts cursing, Kurt looks up from his work.
"Something wrong?"
Sebastian sighs. "I'm trying to make an archway," he says, sounding frustrated. "But it keeps collapsing. Julian made it look so easy!"
"Do you need help?" Kurt asks, putting his tools down.
"No. It's okay," Sebastian says. "It doesn't really need an archway." He glares at the pile of sand in front of him, pursing his lips with a frown.
"But you want one," Kurt states.
Sebastian looks at him and pulls up the corner of his mouth. "Kinda, yeah."
"Then I'll help you," Kurt says with determination. He never thought he'd be doing this and actually be enjoying it, but it's addictive and he's committed now, despite the fact that there's sand caked under his fingernails and salt in his hair. Together, they manage a more or less stable archway, though it's a little lopsided.
"Thanks. I know it's kind of dumb." Sebastian sits back and looks at their castle. "I mean, we literally spent hours making it, and it'll dry out and fall apart in less time than that."
Kurt shrugs. "I think it is very relaxing," he muses and smoothes the sand at the base once more. "Almost meditative. Like one of those mandalas of colored sand. You know that nature will take it all back, but the reward is in the process."
"Yeah," Sebastian agrees. He reaches for the cooler bag. It has a zippered pouch on the outside, and he pulls out his wallet. "Okay, the final touch." He pulls out his credit card.
Kurt frowns. What on earth does he need that for at the beach?
With his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, Sebastian uses the card to carve the tiniest little staircase down the wall to the archway.
Kurt laughs. "Only a Smythe's sand castle is sculpted with a platinum card," he quips, and Sebastian laughs along so hard he nearly crushes the archway with his knee. Just before that can happen, Kurt pulls him away and onto his back in the sand. The castle is saved.
For a moment, Sebastian just lies there, laughing happily and looking up at Kurt, squinting a little at the sunlight with one sandy hand raised to shade his eyes. Then he comes up on one elbow and he reaches out to take hold of the back of Kurt's neck instead, pulling his face down towards him. His broad smile relaxes and his mouth opens, lips forming a silent ‘ah' as he locks them on Kurt's.
Sebastian tastes salty, not like himself at all; he tastes like the sea and the sun and the joy of a childhood rediscovered. Kurt presses in hungrily, licking at his lips for more of it. He feels positively lightheaded. Some sand rains down on Sebastian's face from Kurt's hair, and Kurt can also feel it tickle down his chest from Sebastian's hand. It's going to be everywhere, and Kurt doesn't mind. He kisses his way to Sebastian's cheekbone, brushing his face against Sebastian's cheek, and the sand between them feels like they haven't shaved in days. Kurt chuckles, vaguely thinking this is the most pleasant facial peeling he's ever had, when he notices Sebastian is trying to get his attention.
"Kurt. I said hold up."
Sebastian sounds a bit flushed, like it's maybe the second or third time he's said it. Kurt immediately pulls away. "I'm sorry, was that-" he starts, but Sebastian shakes his head.
"I just want to take a picture of the castle before we, ah, lose track of time and it falls apart," he admits a little shyly. "I mean, we worked so hard on it."
Kurt clears his throat and blushes. "Yeah. Yes, of course. Sorry. Go for it."
Sebastian brushes his hands together, trying to get most of the sand off before he reaches into the bag for his phone. He takes a few snaps, getting up on his feet to walk around it to get all angles, then types a few words and hits send.
"Julian?" Kurt asks fondly.
Sebastian shakes his head. "Family group chat."
"You guys have a group chat?" Kurt asks.
"Oh, yeah. Just for stuff like this. Or when my mom wants to plan her dinners and needs to know who'll attend. My dad mostly uses it to send us dad jokes." The phone in Sebastian's hands buzzes. He looks down at it and rolls his eyes. "Okay, Julian, of course," he starts, and reads out:
JULIAN: THAT is what you are doing at the house? Didn't you get my present?!
Kurt shakes his head. "Tell him-" he starts, but Sebastian puts up a finger to silence him.
"Liv's typing something. Ok, here it comes:
OLIVIA: Am here with mom. We say HEIGHT: 7,DESIGN: 9, ORIGINALITY: 8, EXECUTION: 5,5."
Sebastian frowns and quickly starts typing. "Five point five? I'm telling them you helped and that it was all your fault because you never built one before."
Kurt lets out an insulted little huff. "I did everything you told me!" He draws himself up to his full height and straightens his shoulders. "Add me to the group," he demands, pointing a finger at Sebastian. "I'm getting my phone and I'll tell them-"
"I can't, babe." Sebastian cut him off. "Love to, but can't. The Smythe family group chat is like, sacrosanct. You're not a Smythe. Not even Brian was added until the engagement party. So, um, unless you want me to put a ring on it…?" He smirks, and his eyes glitter.
Kurt is completely taken aback by Sebastian's words. A few weeks ago, every particle of his being would have shouted "NO!!!" and maybe even have threatened to call the pick-up service of a mental institution for him. But now?
Kurt has always wanted to get married. In Kindergarten he was even okay with play-marrying one of the girls if it meant they could play dress up and he got to plan everything. Every time he'd formed a new crush on someone, he'd fantasized about what their wedding day would be like; when he and Blaine finally got together he actually started planning it in his head, right down to what they would wear, who would be on the guest list and what their first dance would be.
He'd spent many secret evenings googling different suit cuts, trying to work out what would bring out Blaine's best features; show off his chest and his round, perky ass. Kurt had even gone so far as to enter an ebay auction for a hand-dyed silk bowtie, a perfect honey color that brought out the flecks of gold in his dreamy hazel eyes. The ceremony would be on the Dalton Academy staircase, with all Warblers attending, there'd be actual songbirds and a song by Pavarotti would play. Every little detail would remind everyone present of their romantic history.
What was he supposed to plan for a wedding to Sebastian? The suits wouldn't be a problem; he could put Sebastian in any Armani or Boss and he'd look like James Bond. But the rest? They couldn't exactly get married at the Lima Bean, let it rain glitter and serve bodyshots at the reception. Would they have to pay each guest $10,000 to attend?
The moment for laughing it off or countering with a joke had come and long passed. Kurt looks at Sebastian, feeling slightly panicked and at a loss for words. Sebastian too, looks very contrite.
"It was just a joke, Kurt," he says softly.
Kurt nods, banishing his thoughts and trying not to overthink the fact that while losing his plans with Blaine still hurts, the idea of actually being married to Sebastian doesn't even scare him. It's just the finer details they'd have to work out. He doesn't dare tell Sebastian yet, though, because who does that, plan a wedding to someone they have only just gotten together with? It would probably send Sebastian running for the hills.
"I'm getting a little peckish," he says instead.
"Ah yes, your body clock," Sebastian says, visibly relieved at the out. He is clearly just as eager to brush over the awkward moment.
"You wanna head back up to the house? Or I could run and grab some stuff, there's a few pre-made salads in the fridge."
Kurt contemplates it for a moment, about heading up to the house and showering away the sun and sand of the day; but it's barely two o'clock, the day is far from over and he's not quite done ogling his half-naked boyfriend yet.
"Salad sounds like a great idea, you want some help?" he replies.
"Nah, it's cool," Sebastian smiles. "You stay and relax, I won't be long."
He bends to pick up the cooler bag and turns his face towards Kurt's in the process, pecking him on the lips. Kurt hums happily and holds the contact for a moment, warmth spreading down his chest that has nothing to do with the sun.
He lets Sebastian pull away and watches as his boyfriend heads back up to the house before sliding his shades firmly into place and laying down on his towel to soak in the sun.
Sebastian comes back a while later with their lunch and they sit and eat in companionable silence for a while. Kurt looks out to sea, still not over the majestic view.
Suddenly he yells in surprise and stands up.
"What?" Sebastian asks, discarding his almost finished salad and standing up too.
"Look!" Kurt yells, pointing out into the distance. Sebastian follows the direction of Kurt's finger and sees the movement in the water.
"Oh," he says, shrugging a little. "Yeah, there is an old shipwreck down there and the dolphins like to play. I guess it's a good spot for fishing too."
"But, they're dolphins," Kurt says reverently, "I've never seen one that wasn't on TV before."
Sebastian smiles and steps closer to him, wrapping an arm around Kurt's waist and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "When my parents get here, I'll get my dad to take us out on the boat, then you can see them up close - they really love playing in the slip stream."
Kurt leans into the touch a little and lets out a soft sigh. "I'd like that." He tears his eyes away from the dolphins and turns his head sideways to look at Sebastian. The tenderness in Sebastian's eyes nearly takes his breath away. He slowly leans forward and presses their lips together, holding the contact for a moment before Sebastian is kissing him back, softly at first, but growing in intensity.
His free hand slides up to cradle the back of Kurt's head, twining his fingers in his hair, and Kurt turns in Sebastian's arms to fully face him, the dolphins forgotten for now. He runs his hands down his boyfriend's sides to clutch at his waist, sand crumbling under his fingers. Their lips slide together with practised ease and Kurt senses that hidden power inside Sebastian that he felt all those weeks ago at the country club, lurking under the surface just waiting to be released. He steps closer into Sebastian's arms and moves his hand back up to wrap around the back of his neck, changing the angle of his head slightly and nipping at Sebastian's bottom lip.
Sebastian moans and pulls Kurt tighter, licking his way into Kurt's mouth and tightening his grip in his hair, wrangling a corresponding moan from Kurt's throat. His hips jerk forward eagerly. The sensation is enough to make Sebastian jolt and he sucks in a breath, breaking the kiss and moving away slightly, but still holding Kurt close, their foreheads pressed together. "Wait," he gasps, clearly trying to catch his breath.
Kurt whimpers and closes his eyes tightly, fighting the voice in his head that is screaming ‘to hell with waiting'. The tightness of his trunks does nothing to hide his eagerness and from the closeness of their bodies he can tell that he is not the only one.
"Sorry," Sebastian says quietly. "I just...maybe now is not the time."
Kurt bites his lip and lets out a shaky breath. "I know," he says honestly. "You're right. I'm sorry, I just...really like kissing you."
Sebastian presses another soft kiss to Kurt's lips. "I really like kissing you too, and I can't wait to do more with you, but-"
"-but you want to do it right, and...I do too," Kurt says, smoothing his hands down Sebastian's sides. "I agree that getting down and dirty in the sand is not exactly romantic."
Sebastian laughs and steps away slightly. Kurt lets him go. "Nope, nothing romantic about a sandy ass."
Kurt laughs loudly and then they're both laughing, shoving each other lightly and giving in to the ridiculousness of the idea.
"So," Kurt says after they have exhausted all puns and dirty jokes they can think of, "now that the mood has effectively been killed, what do you want to do for the rest of the afternoon?"
"Well, we have some badminton rackets in the shed, and I think there's a jeu de boules set - there's a cricket set too - but that's better when you have more people…"
"Badminton sounds good," Kurt says with a smile, more images of the Smythes spending hours down in the sand playing games and making memories as a family filling his mind.
"Alright then," Sebastian says with a nod, "I'll get the stuff."
"You don't have to do everything, you know," Kurts reminds him. "I can help."
Sebastian smirks at him and shrugs his shoulders. "Come on then."
They get the sports equipment from the shed and spend the next few hours playing on the beach, alternating between the different games and dipping into the sea to cool off. By the end of the day, as the sun starts to make its slow descent towards the horizon, Kurt can safely say he's had one of the best days of his life.
Around six-ish the tide starts slowly making its way in and they make the decision to head back up to the house. Together they pack away the sporting equipment and sandcastle tools into the shed and gather up the rest of their stuff. Sebastian insists on carrying the cooler himself, despite Kurt's protests.
"I'm not doing it because you can't," he says, pressing a chaste kiss to Kurt's lips. "I just want to do it."
Mollified, Kurt returns the soft press of lips. "Fine, but I'm carrying the towels."
"Deal."
Kurt throws the towels over his shoulder and takes Sebastian's hand, starting to walk up the beach.
"Wait!" Sebastian exclaims, pulling him back. Kurt turns inquisitively.
"We almost forgot the best part!" Sebastian drops Kurt's hand and starts back.
Kurt cocks his head. He's pretty sure they have packed everything.
"The castle!" Sebastian says, turning back to urge Kurt on with a jerk of his head. "At the end of the day, you have to stomp them to the ground!"
"Wh-"
"It's the best part!" Sebastian repeats excitedly. "Will you do the honors, or shall I?"
Kurt laughs. "You really are five, aren't you?"
They look at each other, and Kurt has never felt more there than at this moment.
"Together?"
*****
"Do you mind if I shower before we figure out dinner?" Kurt asks when they get back onto the terrace a little while later. He has to admit to himself that destroying the castle had been a lot of fun; they'd jumped up and down and kicked and stomped that thing until it was almost flat, and the enthusiastic kiss Sebastian had given him afterwards, bubbling with joy and gratitude for indulging in his childhood games, had been worth everything. But right now, he really wants to get clean.
"Sure, you can use the main bathroom again if you want? I'll take the other one."
Kurt smiles at him gratefully and goes to the bedroom to get his products and a change of clothes.
He strips out of his trunks in the bathroom and wrinkles his nose at the sand that spills onto the floor. Great, he thinks, it's going to be everywhere! He puts them in the sink to rinse out later, and carefully feels his hair. He winces. It feels stiff and brittle, encrusted with salt and sand. Time for some TLC.
He puts out his shampoo, conditioner, and his favourite shower foam that puffs up in his hands like shaving cream after squirting it out of the bottle in fragrant heaps of figs and rosemary. He hums to himself as he runs the shower to let it warm up, and reaches under the sink for a towel. His eyes are inevitably drawn to Julian's supplies, and he feels his cheeks heat up.
He really, really wants it. He meant what he said to Sebastian earlier about wanting to do it right, but it has been over two months since he's had sex, which may not be a very long time on a calendar, but it is a very long time when you're eightteen and in the almost daily presence of an incredibly attractive person, who up until a few days ago even had the extra temptation of the forbidden, and now the lure of the available.
Kurt wants to feel that beautiful strong body pressed against his, wants his long, long legs wrapped around him. He wants Sebastian inside of him and to be inside him, to know all the intimate, slick and wet places, the soft and hard. He runs a hand under the water to check the temperature, his other hand on the part of his body that has sprung to attention at the thought of making love to Sebastian. The water is just right and he steps under the spray, trying to decide which of his fantasies- and he has many, the advantage of being versatile- to choose from to relax a little.
Then, he screams.
Every inch of his back is on fire, and he jumps forward, contorting his body away from the water. He curses himself as he realizes what is going on. He had forgotten to apply sunscreen before they went out, and after his swim and sitting hunched over a sandcastle in the midday sun and playing games the rest of the day, he now has sunburn from his calves up his hips, back, shoulders and neck, hell- even the back of his ears. Damn those distracting red swim shorts, making Kurt forget everything! He has never forgotten his skincare. Never.
"Kurt! What's wrong?!" Sebastian yells urgently, bursting through the door. Then he sees, and winces sympathetically. "Shit…"
"GO AWAY!" Kurt yells in his humiliation and pain, wrapping the curtain around himself.
Sebastian's face falls and he frowns a little, hesitating. Despite the situation, Kurt notices and he deflates.
"Please just leave me alone for a bit, Sebastian," Kurt modifies weakly, turning away from his eyes, feeling sore and even more humiliated at his outburst.
Sebastian nods and quietly backs out of the steam-filled bathroom.
Near to tears, Kurt turns the water as cold as he can handle, and quickly rinses his body. He washes his hair and lets the conditioner sit as long as he can bear, and then rinses it out and turns the water off. He pats down his front with a towel. He'll need to let the rest air-dry, because he's not rubbing his back with a towel now, fluffy or not. He doesn't come out until he's dry and dressed and feeling a little more composed.
Sebastian is in the kitchen, sitting on a bar stool at the marble island, looking a bit forlorn. He has changed too and his hair is still wet from his shower. No sunburn in sight. Kurt scowls a little, jealously imagining Sebastian enjoying his shower instead of feeling like he was plunged into the fiery pits of hell.
Sebastian looks up when Kurt approaches and must have seen the expression on Kurt's face because he immediately looks apologetic. "Are you okay?" he asks carefully.
Kurt nods, relaxing his face a little. It's not Sebastian's fault he got sloppy protecting one of his most prized possessions. "Yeah. Sorry for screeching."
"No, no, don't be," Sebastian says immediately. "I'm sorry for barging in on you like that. I was just worried you'd seen a snake or something-"
"There are snakes here?" Kurt asks sharply, his sunburn momentarily forgotten.
"No idea," Sebastian replies. Not very reassuring. Kurt tries to distract himself.
"Did you put sunscreen on?" he asks.
Sebastian shrugs. "A little, on my shoulders. I've already had a lot of sun this summer." He blinks and looks at Kurt, as if he's just realizing something.
"I'm sorry, I didn't think to ask if you needed any, I just, I forgot-" He raises his hands helplessly, looks at them as if he's surprised to see them, and quickly traps them between his thighs. "Do you want me to put some after-sun lotion on?"
"No," Kurt says a little waspishly. He shouldn't need Sebastian to remind him about proper skin care, he is old enough to take care of himself. His irritation returning, he can't help from adding: "I already put some on. I'm a big boy, you don't need to babysit me."
"Okay." Sebastian nods, and it looks like he is storing that information for later. "Sorry."
Kurt immediately regrets it. He had expected a repartee, not an apology. It's confusing, and right now Kurt just wants to focus on feeling sorry for himself and being angry at his own carelessness. Sebastian showing genuine concern is just enough to tip him over the edge. This is not how they've dealt with each other before now.
It's still so unusual not to have to keep him at an arm's length for his own protection, to let himself be cared for. Caring was what he did with Blaine. They'd always been so good at anticipating each other's needs and moods. From the very beginning, they'd had a connection, where it often felt like they could read each other's mind; (at least Kurt thought they did, until that Wednesday in May when Blaine took him completely by surprise and turned his world upside down).
At the start of summer, Kurt had tried to accept that he'd never have that again, because no one in the world knew him like Blaine did, and the possibility of anyone ever getting to know him as well was unimaginable.
Sebastian's caring has always felt like part of the act; they always had an audience of sorts...except on the Fourth of July, a little voice whispers in his ear. His caring then had been private - away from the curious eyes of their families, Sebastian had offered him a reprieve. After the pool party too, the voice continues. He took you inside to get you warm and then, in the middle of the night, helped you through your hangover. He cares for you, simply because he does.
The reality of that hits Kurt hard, and although he is still angry at himself, he decides to offer an olive branch to show that he really isn't mad at his boyfriend. "I'll be fine," he adds. "I'll just need to wear a t-shirt for a few days."
Sebastian nods and forces a smile. "So what would you like to eat? There's plenty of bread left, but there are some microwave dinners in the freezer, or we could order in?"
"A microwave dinner sounds good," Kurt says. It can't be worse than McKinley's cafeteria (especially as the Smythes wouldn't just stock up any frozen meal) and he isn't ready for dealing with other people yet- not even a delivery person. The less people know about his skincare faux-pas, the better. Apart from that, he also just wants it to be them for now, just him and Sebastian. No intruders, and no audience, so he can finally discover which parts of their act were performative and which weren't.
*****
They sit out on the main terrace to eat, sharing a bottle of white wine with it. As Kurt has expected, the food is more than edible, and with every passing minute, his anger and confusion settle down more, like sand kicked up in the sea eventually sinks to the bottom again when the water is no longer stirred. He recalls the rest of their day, and knows it's a shame to let a sunburnt back ruin it. By time Sebastian pulls a tub of ice cream out of the freezer for dessert, his bad mood has passed and he is back in the present.
They watch as the sky slowly turns from a bright, pale blue to a multitude of pinks, purples and oranges, reflected in the ocean below. Kurt wishes he could put all of it in a frame; the light, the soft, warm air, the taste of good food and drink, and not the least, the tranquility, which almost makes time stand still. Already, he is collecting a photo album in his mind, and labels it ‘Kurt and Sebastian's first trip', hopeful there will be more.
After dinner, they move to the private balcony in their room and settle down next to each other on the swing with a cup of coffee to spend some time doing their own things; Sebastian reading a book that he brought with him, and Kurt sending a few texts back and forth with his dad and Carole. He writes nothing about the sunburn, but instead gushes about driving the Mustang and the luxuries of the beach house, reading some of Carole's more hilarious autocorrect mistakes out to Sebastian, who in turn reads him some of his favorite passages from his book.
The last few rays of sunlight are clutching the horizon, and when it gets too dark to read, Sebastian puts his book down and slides an arm around Kurt. He puts his phone away and rests his head against Sebastian's chest, the soft thrum of his boyfriend's heart soothing him. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, letting go of the last of his worries.
"Bas?" he says softly.
"Mmm?"
"On the 25th, after the wedding…"
"Yes?"
"I...I don't want the money."
It's out. He has made his decision, and it's such a load off his chest it feels like he's a new person. He doesn't even remember what it felt like not feeling this constant pressure of guilt, and it is glorious to be free of it.
Sebastian is quiet for a long time, and Kurt almost wonders if maybe he hasn't heard him.
"Are you sure?" Sebastian finally asks, his voice a little rough.
Kurt sits up and turns in Sebastian's arms to look at him. "I am," he says. "I don't need a paycheck for this. I am here because I want to be."
Sebastian doesn't question it, and Kurt is a little relieved. Instead, he leans forward and kisses Kurt's lips, softly, with reverence, and whispers: "So am I."