Glee, Kurt/Sebastian: "As Your Shadow Crosses Mine" (1/10)
Title: As Your Shadow Crosses Mine (1/10)
Pairings: Past Kurt/Blaine, eventual Kurt/Sebastian
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for language. (Future parts include discussion of past dub/non-con, as well as victim blaming.)
Spoilers: Goes AU after 3:10: ‘Yes/No’
Notes: 1. The words ‘G-d’ and ‘L-rd’ are written as such. It’s a Jewish thing.
2. … I basically just wanted to write a story where Kurt and Sebastian become snarky BFFs. Based on this prompt.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and am making no profit from this piece of fiction. Title from Rihanna’s ‘We Found Love’.
Summary: Weeks after becoming suddenly single, while sitting across from Sebastian Smythe in the Lima Bean (who was doing Kurt’s homework for him, of all things), two things occurred simultaneously to Kurt: 1) he spent way too much time in the Lima Bean, and 2) he always ended up befriending people he hated.
It was Rachel all over again. Kurt had no other way to explain it. There was something wrong with him that meant he couldn’t help but become friends with people he severely disliked.
It all started three days into Kurt’s new life as a single person. Kurt had barely managed to escape Rachel and Mercedes, who had been practically attached to him since the breakup, and he had found himself a relatively secluded corner at the Lima Bean and started working on his Math homework.
Naturally, because he freaking lived there, Sebastian Smythe was soon casting a shadow over Kurt’s work.
Kurt looked up with disinterested eyes. “Can I help you?” he asked, stomach involuntary clenching at the sight of Sebastian Smythe, smarmy meerkat bastard, looming over him.
Sebastian didn’t bother to answer, just raising one eyebrow at Kurt sitting on his own. “Where’s the cute boyfriend?” he asked.
“There is no cute boyfriend,” Kurt replied, feeling momentarily heavy-hearted and regretting ditching his girls, who would understand if he needed to lock himself in the bathroom and cry. (He had been good enough, thus far, to refrain from properly crying in front of anyone but his Dad.) “And thus, no reason for you to stick around and infect me with the smell of sleazy. So please, feel free to take yourself and your cloud of sleaze away from my table.”
Sebastian smiled, and the corners of his eyes creased with it. “You’re not planning to pee all over the table as well as Blaine, are you? I always thought you were a bitch—”
“Sebastian, go away,” Kurt snapped, suddenly sharper and harsher than he had been before.
Sebastian took a quick step backwards, eyebrows raised, and then replied: “Wow, okay. I see I’m interrupting your pre-menstrual stress. See you around, ladyboy.”
Watching Sebastian walk out into the parking lot, Kurt could only think, I’m actually going to kill that idiot some day. I will, I will do it and make it look like an accident.
Then he went back to his Math work, pulling himself back together as best possible.
A week after that, Kurt was back in his corner in the Lima Bean. This time he had escaped the house with his laptop, because Finn had become a little too acquainted with their lady-chats and wanted to talk about Rachel and how she was taking her stress over NYADA out on their relationship, and Kurt just—Kurt just couldn’t talk about relationships right now. So instead, he took his laptop and his homework to the Lima Bean and tried to write a history paper.
The first thing he had to do was switch his phone off. His friends were being wonderfully supportive, and he needed each and every one of them, but he couldn’t deal with them constantly checking up on him when he was busy trying to think about schoolwork instead of boyfriend (ex-boyfriend) drama.
“So,” Sebastian said, appearing out of thin air because he was a demon and demons did that, and G-d Kurt was going to kill him, “I see Blaine’s Facebook relationship status has changed.”
Kurt blinked up at him, doing his best to look disinterested. “Do you just wait around the Lima Bean for me to show up? Is that how you’re spending your afternoons now? Get help, Sebastian.”
Rather than getting Kurt’s message (which was not subtle, it was practically a giant flashing GO AWAY, SEBASTIAN sign), Sebastian sat down across from Kurt and smirked at him. “Go on then, tell me what happened,” he said. “Blaine’s not responding to my calls. You had a fight about me?”
Kurt stared at him for several moments, trying to remember whether his non-fat mocha was still hot enough to cause scarring if he threw it at Sebastian. He breathed deeply. “No,” he said. “Not everything is about you, hard as that may be for you to believe.” Sebastian continued to sit there with annoyingly raised eyebrows, and an annoying chipmunk face, and Kurt finally decided that talking was better than silence. “He said,” he started, trying out the reason Blaine had given him, “that he really liked having a boyfriend, that he loved it, but it wasn’t about it being me so much as it just being someone.”
“Seriously?” Sebastian asked, eyebrows pulling in slightly.
Kurt resolutely stopped paying attention to Sebastian’s stupid eyebrows and looked at his laptop screen instead.
“Seriously,” he replied. “So I guess you were involved. He said he realised he liked the attention, not because it was you but because it was attention. And he realised that it was the same with me.”
Kurt swallowed then, refusing to let emotion show on his face even though all he was thinking was not special, not loved, just used. Always just used.
“Huh,” Sebastian eventually huffed, and Kurt turned his attention back to his paper. He typed a few words, not caring if they made sense, just hoping that they gave Sebastian a hint. Sebastian had what he wanted – Kurt and Blaine broken up, Kurt hurt and confused and just hurt – he didn’t need to stick around to watch a paper being written. “That sucks for you.”
“Yep,” Kurt replied. “Soak it up, and then move away from me. I can feel my I.Q plummeting the longer I’m in your vicinity, and I need to actually finish this paper without reverting to monosyllables.”
Sebastian chuckled at that, but Kurt still refused to look up.
“For what it’s worth,” Sebastian said, amusement in his voice, “I dislike you precisely because you’re you. Not just because you’re someone to dislike.”
Kurt tried to hold himself still, but he couldn’t help it; laughter bubbled up, and he closed his eyes tightly as he laughed.
It occurred to him, when Sebastian threw him a smirk before standing up and leaving the coffee shop, that this was the first time he had laughed properly since he had been dumped.
Well. There was that.
At some point in their two recent run-ins at the Lima Bean, Sebastian must have ‘borrowed’ Kurt’s cell phone, because the next day at school he received a text from THE SMYTHE.
Someone ran over a cat on my drive to school today. It screeched. Reminded me of you.
Kurt frowned at his phone for several moments, then texted back: You are a despicable human being.
Three hours later, when Kurt was sitting in the choir room waiting for Mr Schuester to get to the point, his phone lit up with a reply.
A despicable human being with a great ass, though.
When Kurt laughed, Finn and Rachel both leaned forward to look past Mercedes at him. Kurt shrugged.
For Kurt Hummel, school had been Hell in various forms throughout his teen years. First there was the general bullying – slushies ruining his favourite clothing and making him feel just miserable, being tossed into dumpsters most mornings as a fun pass-time for the jocks – and then there had been Karofsky, who made every corner threatening because he might walk around it, and now there was Blaine.
It wasn’t like Blaine was doing anything on purpose, but just existing too close was difficult. Some days were easier than others (some days he woke up thinking to Hell with this, I’m Kurt Elizabeth Hummel and I can do anything), but some days Kurt would almost forget, and then when he saw Blaine laughing or walking to class or just existing, it would all come crashing down around him.
It was after one of these bad days (the third day since being broken up with that Kurt had locked himself inside a dirty bathroom stall, just to be alone while he convinced himself not to cry) that Sebastian turned up again.
Kurt had a lot of patience. He lived with Finn, for Christ’s sake, of course he had a lot of patience. Rachel Berry was one of his best friends, and she necessitated a near-constant ‘count to ten’ rule in Kurt’s life. And he was a pacifist, no matter how many times he had been thrown around.
However, around Sebastian Smythe, the cloud of patience that Kurt lived in dissipated immediately.
“No,” was his only greeting.
Sebastian sat down opposite him anyway. “Hi, Kurt,” he said with false cheer. “I like the sweater; I think my little sister has one just like it.”
“Your little sister inherited all the good-taste genes,” Kurt replied, finally looking opposite him. “How can I assist your evil plans today, Smythe?”
Sebastian smiled brightly. “I was just thinking that I missed the sound of self-pity, and there you were.”
“That’s funny,” Kurt replied. “I was just thinking that I missed the aura of complete lack of self-respect. Thank you for helping me with that.”
“You are welcome, Kurt Hummel,” Sebastian replied, and then pulled out his own laptop and started setting up across from Kurt.
Kurt watched him for several moments, eyes narrowing, and then asked: “What do you think you’re doing?”
Sebastian looked up, and then down at his laptop. “What do you think I’m doing? Is this not obvious enough for your estrogen-soaked brain to comprehend?”
“It looks like you’re planning to sit across from me on your laptop,” Kurt pointed out.
Sebastian’s smile turned patronising. “Well done, Kurt. Next we’re going to move onto how to tie shoelaces.”
“You’re not sitting with me, Smythe,” Kurt replied.
Sebastian looked down at the seat, false surprise lighting his features, and Kurt (who was usually a pacifist, really) wanted to punch him in his stupid freaking face. “That’s funny, it looks like I am, actually.”
Kurt looked at the ceiling at counted to ten. And then he counted to twenty, just to be sure, before looking back at Sebastian and stating: “You are not welcome here.”
“But I was here first,” Sebastian argued.
“No you—” Kurt started, louder and harsher than he meant, and then breathed in deeply through his nose. “No, you weren’t. You just got here. I’ve been here for half an hour.”
Sebastian flashed a smirk. “I meant the world. I’m two months older than you.”
Kurt closed his eyes. When he opened them, he deliberately looked at his laptop screen instead of Sebastian’s smirking rodent face. “Firstly, that is irrelevant. Secondly, the fact that you know when I was born is super creepy.” Sebastian chuckled. Kurt told himself to calm down. “And thirdly, if you are going to do work, then you are going to remain silent. I have a paper due.”
And that was how Kurt ended up sitting across from Sebastian Smythe for an hour. Somehow, he managed to refrain from punching anything the entire time. Upon leaving, however, he sat in his car for five minutes just thumping his head against the steering wheel.
You won cheerleading nationals by singing Celine Dion in French? Who the hell ARE you?
Kurt stared down at the text message, and then left his phone to finish his moisturising routine. When he returned, the text was still there, and was still from THE SMYTHE.
I am awesome, he eventually typed back, followed by: Stop stalking me, creep.
Usually, Kurt would be the first in the Lima Bean and Sebastian would join him a while later. They didn’t have set days – sometimes Sebastian didn’t show up at all, and there must have been days that Sebastian did his homework alone – because they weren’t friends and this wasn’t anything more than a coincidental routine. They were saving the Lima Bean tables by crowding onto one, and Kurt decided that Sebastian’s comments were a test upon his patience so that he would grow stronger.
It was a Wednesday afternoon that Kurt found Sebastian sitting at a round table by himself.
Kurt sat down heavily across from the other student, and then breathed in deeply and steadily.
Later, looking back at this moment, Kurt would realise that it was the first time that Kurt had approached Sebastian instead of vice versa. At this point, however, his hands were itching for something to do, so he left his messenger bag by the seat and then walked, in a daze, to the counter.
It would also occur to Kurt, looking back, that he must have learned Sebastian’s coffee order through osmosis. He placed the two cups down onto the small table, and then placed the white envelope between them.
Sebastian finally looked up at him, and then frowned at the cup. “Uh, thanks,” he said, sounding confused. “Unless they’re both for you…?”
Kurt sat down again. His hands still itched to move. “No, that’s yours. Don’t say anything.”
“Why not?” Sebastian asked. “What’s wrong? What’s the envelope?”
Kurt felt sick. “It’s from NYADA.”
“NYADA? You applied to NYADA?” Sebastian asked, sounding honestly interested. “Oh, Jesus, I can’t go to New York then.”
“Huh?” Kurt asked, wondering if he was in shock.
“It’s either New York or Paris, I haven’t decided yet,” Sebastian replied. Of course he was confident about his dream schools, he was Sebastian. Kurt couldn’t gather the energy to want to punch him anymore, because even though he was looking at Sebastian he was still totally focused on that slightly crumpled, unopened white envelope. “Did you get in?”
Kurt’s breaths felt shaky. “I don’t know. I haven’t opened it yet.”
Sebastian’s eyebrows shot up. “Why not?” he asked.
Kurt shrugged, and then tugged at the overly-long sleeves of his sweater because he needed to do something. “I, uh, nowhere felt right.”
Sebastian’s flat gaze was unimpressed. “So you’re just going to carry it around until it feels right?” he asked. “Jesus, Kurt, it’s going to say the same thing no matter when you open it.”
“I’m just not ready to know yet,” Kurt said, well aware that he sounded pathetic. He couldn’t even care. “I mean, what if they don’t want me? What if they do?”
“Wow,” Sebastian responded. “My homework is actually more interesting than you freaking out over nothing. Grow a pair, Hummel. What are you so scared of, anyway?”
And then, because the universe was taunting him, Sebastian picked up the envelope.
Kurt reached out and Sebastian moved backwards, and then stood up. “Sebastian,” Kurt hissed, standing to face him.
Sebastian’s expression was challenging. When Kurt did nothing but glare, he tore the envelope open with a grin and then began to read the letter.
Kurt felt sick. He felt like he might actually throw up, and vowed to aim for Sebastian’s stupid shoes if he did.
Eventually, Sebastian looked back up at Kurt. “Congratulations,” he said.
Kurt froze. This was Sebastian Smythe; congratulations could go either way. “What does it say?” he asked.
Sebastian handed the paper over, smiling. “You’re a finalist.”