Lights.

To get his mind off things, Kurt stares at all the lights he can see from the passenger seat of Sebastian's car. He names them, counts them, categorizes them the same way he did with street signs driving home from his mother's funeral. Mindless busywork his dad had called it, which sounded insulting except it gave him something to dwell on instead of reality - a future where he never sees his mom again. Truth be told, that's a reality he never has gotten a firm grasp of. There are days that, despite all of the love and support he has around him, he wishes she was there.

And there are days that, despite the years gone by, he wakes up and, in the haze between awake and dreaming, forgets that she's dead.

He's not ready to go through the same thing with his dad.

He can't lose him yet.

Single street lights, traffic lights (in units of three), Christmas lights strung in fifties, hundreds, two hundreds, the neon light from a diner Kurt doesn't remember ever seeing before, a garish purple sign in the window flashing the word closed. Kurt wonders if that diner, with it's shabby-chic gingham curtains and picnic tables instead of regular tables, is one of the places Sebastian called in his search for the impossible – a restaurant open on Christmas. It's just a diner, but its existence proclaims something stronger, more terrifying than Kurt wants to acknowledge.

Times have changed.

This city – Lima, Ohio - that Kurt once hated with a burning passion, has changed.

His father, sleeping in a hospital bed and surrounded by cellophane-wrapped cocoons of inedible food when he should be at home, has definitely changed. More than Kurt is comfortable with.

He has changed. No longer the closeted kid waiting for his moment, he's had moments. Tons of moments. Moments he's proud of. Moments he's learned from. Moments he'd rather forget. Moments he wishes he could go back to.

Sebastian has changed, too.

And as a couple – romantic, friends, or otherwise - he knows they've changed together. He's owned up to that change more than once. It's one of the reasons they're in this situation. Because they've changed, and Kurt doesn't know if they can change back, even in some small way so that they can see eye to eye again.

Does he want to? Will it help?

Or is there a path forward that's better even if he can't see it now, where they walk alone for while but meet each other at the end?

But since that thought strays into Sebastian territory (territory that, for the time being, Kurt is trying to avoid) he goes back to looking at the lights. Because the lights are keeping him from grilling Sebastian for information, ask him what happened back at the hospital, what it all meant. Ask him if he knows the thing that no one's telling him.

Is his father going to be okay?

Kurt watches the lights pass by, the buildings change into houses, the amount of cars parked by the curb increase. He counts the cars, sorts them by color in his head. But the mundane begins to drive him insane, and the words piling up in his brain behind an ever crumbling wall of minutiae tumble over the edge.

"So," he says. It's an opening, an invitation if Sebastian chooses to take it.

Even if he doesn't, Kurt will more than likely keep going anyway. The floodgates are opening. The barricades won't hold.

"So ..." Sebastian returns, eyes scanning the road ahead unnecessarily.

He's not a complete idiot. He knows what Kurt is doing.

"What did he say to you?"

"When?"

"You know when?"

Sebastian makes a middle-ground face - the face one makes at a car salesman who comments about the weather as an opening salvo before he starts haggling about price. "Honestly, not much."

Kurt huffs. "I don't believe you."

Sebastian shrugs. "It's the truth. He just wanted to make sure that you were okay. Asked me to keep an eye on you."

"You're lying."

Sebastian smirks. In this low light, it makes him look years younger, makes Kurt's heart skip a beat. He wishes that smirk could transport them back in time to when things were simpler, when the most pressing thing on Kurt's mind was that his so-called soulmate had cheated on him and how in the hell he was going to come up with ten thousand dollars to pay for admission to NYADA.

If he'd only known then how petty those things were, how easy to solve.

Ironically, he was able to overcome both those problems with the help of the man sitting next to him.

"It's been known to happen, but I'm not lying now."

Kurt considers debating the point further, not because he doesn't believe Sebastian, but because provoking Sebastian into an argument would give him something else to take his mind off things besides staring out the Goddammed window.

He's running out of things to count.

"If the silence is wearing on you, you can put on the radio," Sebastian offers, reading Kurt's mind. "I'm pretty sure there's one or two stations not playing Christmas carols."

"I doubt it."

"It's worth a shot."

"I guess …" Kurt reaches for it, but an inch away, he stops. Memories flood back - good ones, bad ones. This car, his house, this town are chock full of too many memories.

Too many landmines he can't seem to avoid stepping onto.

They show up without warning, incapacitate him when they explode.

It's becoming too much.

He pulls his hand back, crosses his arms over his chest. He hugs himself tight, hunkers down in his seat, and starts counting wreaths.

Sebastian pulls up in front of the Hudmel house and parks by the curb. Kurt doesn't move. He hasn't fallen asleep, he just doesn't have it in him. He doesn't want to sleep in Sebastian's car but he doesn't want to bother with incidentals like walking and finding his keys.

And Sebastian knows.

He lets the engine idle, keeps the heater running.

Waits in silence till Kurt has the energy to move.

Kurt stares at the cozy house decorated to the nines for the holidays. His dad and stepmom love Christmas as much as the next middle-aged, suburban couple, but they decorate mainly for him and Finn. He and his stepbrother have managed to spend most every Christmas since high school graduation at the Hudmel house, and usually, Sebastian and Rachel spend it with them.

Not this time.

His and Sebastian's situation is, of course, complicated.

Finn and Rachel were scheduled to join them the following week. They'd gone on some Rosie O'Donnell comedy cruise with her dads. Carole called Finn from the hospital, just to give him the news, but he's making arrangements to fly in the second he reaches their next port of call. Until then, it's Kurt holding down the fort. But no amount of sitting outside in the cold, wearing down Sebastian's engine, is going to make his father get better faster.

And as awful as it sounds, Kurt has to think about himself.

Kurt starts to stir, and Sebastian turns off the engine.

Sebastian gets out of the car, reaching Kurt's door before Kurt can open it, and offers him his arm. Kurt takes it. Looking up into his ex-boyfriend's face, the street lamp behind him giving him a blurry, sodium-orange halo, Kurt yawns.

"Ready to pass out, huh?" Sebastian asks, leading Kurt up the icy walk. He catches Kurt's keys when he fumbles them and helps put the correct one in the lock.

"My body is," Kurt says, opening the door and walking inside. "My brain wants to solve the Riemann Hypothesis."

"Brutal."

"Yeah. It would make more sense if I liked math."

Sebastian locks the door for Kurt, who looks ready to knock out where he stands. And as much as he wants to let Kurt crash, he doesn't want him to drop emotionally. What Kurt deserves is twenty-seven hours of peaceful, uninterrupted sleep, but he needs to ease into it.

"Are you in the mood to watch a movie?" Sebastian asks, turning on the central heat and switching on the lights, bringing the house to life. "Maybe binge watch some late night television? I can rustle up some snacks. Uh …" He's about to make a comment about Kurt's dad hiding something in the kitchen he shouldn't be eating, but it strikes him as tasteless to make jokes, no matter how much he knows Burt would appreciate his humor. "I could whip up some French toast. You remember how stellar my French toast is."

Kurt cracks a small smile and triumph, for the moment, is Sebastian's.

Another memory, but this one not as devastating … the damage to the kitchen notwithstanding.

"Thanks," Kurt says, "but I'm (yawn) exhausted. So, if you don't mind …"

"Do you want me to leave?" Sebastian asks, feeling uneasy for suggesting it considering what he'd promised Burt.

"No. I just … I would rather hang out in my room, if that's not too weird for you. This way if I fall asleep, you won't feel obligated to carry me to bed."

An image pops into Sebastian's head of him carrying Kurt, bridal style, to his room. Then his brain helpfully reminds him of all the times he has carried Kurt to bed, and it almost does him in. "The boiler room would be weird. Your bedroom, not so much."

"Boiler room? Who do I look like? Freddy Krueger?" Kurt mumbles, trudging his way to his room. Step by step everything becomes difficult. The act of lifting his foot can go straight to hell and burn in a fire. He feels very much like he's fighting molasses and the molasses is winning. Part of him wants to stop, lay down in the hallway and conk out. But he can't do that.

He can't give up.

He can't sleep here since he doesn't know how often Carole or his father cleans this floor, and he's wearing one of his best pairs of jeans.

He reaches for the doorknob about three feet before he reaches the door. He might as well do it now while he's thinking about it. Otherwise he might not have the motivation when he gets there. He turns it, pushes in, lets the door swing. If it rebounds while he's walking through, there's a fifty-fifty chance he might let it smack him in the face.

He couldn't care less.

He stops at the foot of his bed and starts taking off his coat.

"Why do bedrooms always seem smaller when you go back to them?" he asks. "I mean, I only lived here during high school, but it still seems tiny to me."

"I think because when you're young, your bedroom is your whole world. But when you leave home, you outgrow that world. Ergo, you outgrow them."

Kurt chuckles dryly. "You're one to talk. Your childhood bedroom's about the size of a studio apartment!"

"Yes but the penthouse I live in now makes it seem so much dinkier," Sebastian claps back with a smirk. "Did you want to take a shower or …?"

"If you don't mind …" Kurt tugs off his sweatshirt, tosses it on a chair, then starts unbuttoning his shirt "… I'd really rather fuck if it's all the same to you."

Sebastian's face goes blank and his eyes pop. "I'm sorry. Wha-?"

Sebastian doesn't finish his question.

Kurt digs into the last of his reserves and crashes their mouths together. "Did I stutter?" he whispers, reaching for Sebastian's belt.

"No, I just … mmph … I want to be sure …"

Kurt tugs hard on the leather, freeing the strap from the buckle in one pull. "Do you want me to stop?"

"That depends … do you really want to do this? I mean really?"

Kurt looks into Sebastian's eyes, the right corner of his mouth sliding up into a cocky grin. "Absolutely."

Sebastian's grin matches Kurt. "Then by all means." He crouches, hugs Kurt's legs around the thighs, then picks him up and carries him to the bed. "You know, when your dad told us to go do something fun, I was hoping we'd do this."

"Probably not the best time to mention my dad," Kurt says, starting in on Sebastian's shirt even though he's only about halfway done with his own, "all things considered."

"Gotcha." Then Sebastian kisses him. And apart from taking a breath or two, he doesn't stop.

Despite the fact that Kurt is wearing a pair of jeans so tight Sebastian thought he might have to cut Kurt out of them, both of them end up completely naked in a ridiculously short amount of time, clothes tossed about like confetti, not in keeping with Kurt's usual edict that everything be laid out neatly on the nearest piece of unused furniture. Lube and a condom are located and not by Kurt. Sebastian knows all of Kurt's tricks and hiding places. He doesn't look as he reaches under the mattress and to the middle drawer of the dresser, completely confident that what he needs will be there when he reaches out a hand in search of it.

And he's right.

Sebastian sits up with his back against the headboard. He rolls the condom over his cock while Kurt straddles him, taking a moment to stack pillows behind Sebastian's back so the wood doesn't dig into his spine.

"Thanks, love," Sebastian whispers as Kurt positions himself, starts working himself down. He nips at Sebastian's bottom lip, never staying in the same place longer than a second, keeping him on his toes.

"Jesus fuck!" Sebastian growls when Kurt begins to move, grabbing his shoulders and pushing down, burying himself in Kurt's body deeper … deeper …

Kurt goes deeper. He also goes faster, hitting Sebastian's thighs hard - deeper and faster, pleasure and pain bouncing off one another until he begins to see stars.

"You know," Kurt moans, "this doesn't mean anything. I'm just … I'm just using you as a distraction."

"Kurt" – Sebastian grabs Kurt's hips to slow him down, but Kurt slaps his hands away. He'll go as fast as he likes, as hard as he wants, and when they're done, they're going to do this again. They're going to do this till he can't remember his own name, till his mind is wiped clean, till the exhaustion in his body is so overwhelming he can't do anything but close his eyes and pass out. He's going to do this until he can effectively erase the past twelve hours of his life. And then, they're going to do it again – "when have I ever objected to being used as a distraction by you?"

"Yeah, well, I could just as well slap you in the face."

Sebastian bucks up, willing to play this Kurt's way if this is really the way Kurt wants it. "Do you … nngh … want to slap me in the face?"

"Only every time I see you," Kurt admits, stopping and hovering so Sebastian can have a turn at pounding him instead.

But Sebastian stops altogether and it pisses Kurt off, especially with the addition of his raised eyebrow and his smug-ass expression.

"Then do it," Sebastian says.

Kurt chuckles nervously. "Are you kidding me?"

"Not at all. If you want to slap me, go ahead. Get it out of your system."

Without another beat lost, Kurt rears back and slaps Sebastian across the face. Sebastian's face flies to the side as he takes the hit. He turns back to look at Kurt, a red hand mark visible across his cheek. They lock eyes, both with peculiar looks of surprise on their faces.

Kurt can't lie. Slapping Sebastian feels amazing.

Sebastian must think so, too, because he stares at Kurt, lips twisted into the most sinisterly erotic smile Kurt has ever seen.

Kurt considers asking Sebastian if he hurt him, but he doesn't. He slaps him again. This time, Sebastian hisses, but Kurt doesn't let him catch his breath, slapping him a third time for good measure. Sebastian catches Kurt's wrist and holds it; holds his gaze, too, trying to decipher what's going on in his mind.

"I'm gonna switch things up a bit," Sebastian says. "Do you mind?"

Kurt shoots him a curious look. "Not at all."

Sebastian slides out of Kurt's body only long enough to re-position him on his knees facing the headboard, then grabs his hips roughly and enters him from behind. His hands roam, pinching at Kurt's thighs and slapping his ass while he gnaws his shoulders. He wraps an arm around Kurt's body, a hand creeping up to his neck. The hand doesn't close around, doesn't squeeze. It's just there, a symbol of Sebastian's possessive nature where Kurt is concerned.

Mine.

I call him mine.

Even if they're not officially together, on some level, Kurt belongs to him, especially now when he's consuming him.

Kurt grabs the headboard and holds on tight, turning at an angle to catch Sebastian's gaze. He loves looking at Sebastian during sex, loves seeing the desperation in his green eyes.

And Kurt does see it, but it has little to do with the sex they're having. Sebastian is begging, trying to hold on to every second, hoping it's not the last time they'll have together.

He's looking at Kurt the way Kurt looked at his dad, and Kurt realizes he's not okay. He's not okay with losing his dad.

But he's also not okay with losing Sebastian.

What exactly had Sebastian done?

He'd overstepped a line, the same way he always does, but not necessarily in a bad way.

He didn't cheat on him.

Like the hand on Kurt's neck, he was being possessive. He did what he did because he cares. But Sebastian's numero uno solution to everything is to buy a way out, so there are times when it seems he doesn't take anything seriously, and Kurt can't live that way. He can't live in a sit-com where every situation that comes up, good or bad, has a punchline followed by canned laughter.

And he comes out looking like a naive idiot.

Why is tonight different?

A few thousand dollars, a few million dollars, can't buy a solution to what's going on with Kurt's father. Yet Sebastian is here in bed with him, letting Kurt open up, be vulnerable. And aside from a few attempts to ease the tension at the hospital, he hasn't cracked a single joke.

Because Sebastian has changed.

And if Kurt loved Sebastian then, he adores him now.

"Talk to me," Kurt moans, unsettled by the quiet in the room, as if they're together in this but still apart.

He can't be apart.

He needs to be whole.

"What do you want me to say?"

"The first thing that comes to your mind."

"I …" Sebastian hesitates, a brick lodged in his throat. "I love you, Kurt."

"I love you, too," Kurt admits. "But say something else."

Thank God! Sebastian thinks, on the verge of tears. The sex is incredible, but hearing that Kurt still loves him … that's what he'll take awake from this, what he'll carry with him if this ends up being the last time.

Dear God, don't let this be the last time ...

"I love your ass."

Kurt chuckles. "Better." He pushes back, sticks his ass out, lets Sebastian have his way with him.

And Sebastian does because (this might sound lousy to say) here in Kurt's bed, the man is in his element.

When it comes to sex (because that's what they're doing - having sex. Kurt refuses to think of this as making love. They're fucking. That's all …) Kurt hit the lottery with Sebastian. Ever since the first time, sex with Sebastian has been glorious, and it gets better the more they do it.

Kurt tries not to dwell on why that is.

But the man knows his way around a human body.

And he has the hands of an artist.

"Oh, Kurt," Sebastian pants into Kurt's shoulder, "Jesus Christ … I'm cumming … I'm cumming, I'm cumming ..."

Kurt huffs, put off by the fact that they've only been at it for around forty-five minutes - a mind-blowing forty-five minutes - and Sebastian is already throwing in the towel. Of course, Sebastian hasn't been with anyone for the time they've been apart, so Kurt can't blame the man.

Kurt hasn't, either, so when Sebastian's palm starts caressing his cock, his resolve starts circling the drain as well.

"Yes, yes, yes …" Kurt chants, his vision going prickly, then black before he even closes his eyes. This is it - this is where he escapes. Behind his eyelids, into the recesses of his mind, where thought disappears and sensation takes over. If he can just hold on to it, if Sebastian can make it last. He'd try if Kurt asked him to, but the words won't come out. As with everything, there's a point where things start to spiral out of his control. His muscles spasm and his body shudders. He has to choose between thinking of something to stop his orgasm and risk going unfulfilled, or giving in to the void, letting his body do its thing, and then start all over from the beginning once they catch their breath.

That's the most logical course of action. And it's not a bad one.

The thing that scares Kurt is that space in between, when he comes back from ecstasy and Sebastian's heat and has to face the cold and dark. He'll have to exist there with whatever thoughts his brain decides to throw at him until they can start again and Sebastian can wipe his mind clean.

He'll have time, he figures. Time to get his head on straight, stop reeling, before the plunge happens. Three minutes? Four? He'll only need five minutes before he'll be ready to go again, to lose all thought in Sebastian's arms. That means one minute of depression. Two at the most.

But he's not as lucky as he thinks he'll be.

It comes at him much too quickly.

Kurt leans against the headboard, hugging what he can of it so he doesn't drown when the wave hits.

"Kurt? Honey? Are you okay?"

Kurt shakes his head.

"Is this … not what you wanted?" Sebastian slides his hand off Kurt's shoulder and backs away. Kurt hears him gulp behind him. "Did you change your mind in the middle and I didn't hear you?"

Kurt shakes his head again. "That's not it. I did want this. I …" His body curls, sinks towards the pillows. "He's not … he's not leaving the hospital? Is he?"

Sebastian sighs. "I … I don't know, Kurt."

Kurt spins around and shoves Sebastian away, but he doesn't go far. He doesn't get up. He doesn't leave. Kurt didn't want him to, but he needed to be sure he wouldn't.

As immature as it sounds, he needs to know that Sebastian won't leave, even if Kurt pushes with all his might.

He needs Sebastian, but he needs to be able to hurt him, just a little, to even out the pain inside of him.

He'll find a way to make that up to him later.

"Yes, you do!"

"I don't! I swear!"

"You're lying!"

"Kurt, babe, I'm not that cruel a person. Not to you. Even if he told me in the strictest confidence, I would still tell you because you deserve to know. We're all on edge about this, all jumping seven steps ahead and assuming the worst, but to be honest, I don't think he knows for sure."

"Then what did he tell you?"

"Nothing! Like I said, he wants me to look after you. He's scared, like you. That's all. But you need to have a little faith."

"In what?" Kurt snaps, irritated that Sebastian would spout faith with him of all people.

"In the people who love you, Kurt. The people who want to help you. Look, I know that at times like this, it feels like the best thing is to be alone, but I disagree. That's just the easiest. And I get that. When you're around people, you feel the need to be accommodating, and you don't have the energy for that. But I think you need all of the fun and laughter you can find right now, with people who get that this is hard for you and will give you your space when you need it. Turns out, I just so happen to know a big house not two hours from here filled with people who would love to see you, who will shower you with love and affection, but will also ignore the shit out of you if you need it. Because, again, they love you."

Kurt glares at Sebastian, eyes hard as glass, but he begins to soften when Sebastian's hopeful gaze starts to slip.

He's tired, too, but he's doing everything in his power to be strong for Kurt.

Kurt needs to start giving some of that strength back.

"You're really working hard to sell that love angle, aren't you?"

"Yeah, well, it's important. I want you to know that you're loved."

"I do," Kurt says quietly, plopping on his side with a body-deflating sigh. Sebastian wastes no time lying behind him and winding his arms around him. He doesn't hold tight in case Kurt wants to put some distance between them.

He doesn't.

He moves closer.

"What do we do now?" Sebastian asks.

Kurt doesn't want to be rushed into giving him an answer, even though he has one more or less figured out, but he also doesn't fault Sebastian for asking. Sebastian had hitched quite a few of his future plans to his relationship with Kurt so Kurt understands.

Kurt did, too.

"I say we keep going on the way we are, not think about anything too heavy for the moment. We'll go visit your folks, celebrate the holiday, and then, when we get back to New York, we'll revisit it. I promise."

"Fair enough," Sebastian says, sounding a bit disappointed. "Do we still get to fuck?"

In another lifetime, it would have embarrassed Kurt how fast he answers. "Provided you're a good boy, yes. Yes, we do."

"Groovy. But just so you know, I'm always going to be yours, Kurt. Always. We've done everything aside from mortal combat to push one another away, and guess what?"

"What?"

Sebastian takes Kurt's hand, weaves their fingers together. "I'm still here."

"Me, too." Kurt wriggles back into Sebastian's embrace, buries himself against his body. Despite the confusing and uncomfortable situation they find themselves in, he's grateful for this, that Sebastian would be so generous with his body even if Kurt isn't giving him the security of absolutes. But Kurt can't make decisions right now. He needs to hide from the world, from his life, his responsibilities.

From the inevitable.

There are way worse places to do that than Sebastian's arms.

"Mortal Kombat?" Kurt snickers. "Still keeping up that nerd boy street cred, huh?"

"Oh, I don't know …" Sebastian hugs Kurt tight, pulling the sheets over them and rocking him back and forth. He missed this. God, did he miss this. And even though he didn't believe in God an inch, he silently prayed that he could get this back. Somehow, in some way, he needed this back. But for the moment, he was content to hold Kurt together, keep him from shattering. "I'd say that was a … flawless victory."

Kurt rolls his eyes, groaning to the moon and back. "Shut up, Smythe, or I'm never fucking you again."