Disclaimer: Recognizable aspects not mine. Obviously. Because its called fanfiction.net.

Warnings: This is the sequel. You can probably read this as a stand alone, but it will make more sense if you read "Love to Hate You" first.

Now without further adieu, the slightly angsty and rather long sequel, as promised. You really owe this to XxBlackShadowMagicxX so you might want to thank her, also stop by and check her out. :)

He barely bats an eyelash when the sound of the door slamming echoes around the house. He's falling into the routine. Fifty-nine days and ten hours later, the lack of the harsh sound would register rather odd to Sebastian.

The water is hot, scalding against his skin, peppered with bruises. He brushes his fingers against one on his hip bone—stark, fresh and purpling against his tanned skin. The touch sends a rush of desire flowing through him, tingling like electricity under the surface. He can still feel the teeth digging into his skin; can feel Kurt's lips pressing kisses to the afflicted area then sucking it in the hot cave of his mouth. He's only just left, but Sebastian wants to run out the door after him and force him to stay a little longer. He would make it worth his wild.

Sebastian releases a frustrated little sigh and jerks the nob back down to the bright, blue "C," flinching when the arctic water meets his headed skin. His breath hitches, eyes clinched shut as his stomach muscles tighten in protest. But it's better than the alternative. He doesn't want to think about Kurt right now. Not after he's gone, not even when he's still there, doesn't want to think about him ever because he spends too much time doing that already. The cold water is better than the alternative. It's better than thinking of Kurt.

It's easier said than done, not thinking about Kurt—if for nothing other than the simple fact that he always has. Not always in the greatest light. Not always for more that to plot his demise and make his life miserable. But Kurt has always been there resting in the back of Sebastian's mind. He isn't sure when it changed. When suddenly his plan to throw Hummel off of a cliff followed a more X-rated one: Kurt naked and wreathing beneath him. When suddenly it was the only plan he wanted to carry out. And when those thoughts gave way to even more dangerous ones—slow kisses, skin on slicked skin aching for more, and soft breathy moans of bliss. And love.

Sebastian hates him. Hates what he does to him. Hates how he can't have a day to himself without the man plaguing his every thought. He hates how Kurt doesn't seem to think of him at all. And he hates how he even cares about that.

Sometimes they just sit and talk. He hates it. It's never without snark and insults. Never without sex, but they talk. Sometimes it's as simple as noticing a haircut—"trimmed that CW hair have you, Smythe?"—or increased definition in a bicep—"oh, you've just been to the gym. When you were holding me down earlier I thought maybe some of your 'lady 'had rubbed off on me." But sometimes they meet before class with coffee and discuss life and things they don't understand. Sometimes Kurt doesn't get up and leave. He lets Sebastian hold him, welcomes it, and they speak without topic or consistency. He hates those times more than anything. Because it's then that he can almost imagine what being with Kurt would be like—for more than just fantastic, mind blowing sex. He can almost imagine what being Blaine would be like. It's such a foreign thought and when had he gotten so bad as to be jealous of Blaine Anderson? Because he is. Jealous. And he hates it.

He hates it so much he puts off his and Kurt's nearly triweekly "meetings" for the next two weeks. He needs the time away to think, to clear his mind. He doesn't know how Kurt feels about it, he never answers the text. Sebastian shouldn't care, but he can't help wishing the other man had at least been angry, yelled at him. Replied with something sarcastic and emotionally debilitating because at least then he would know that Kurt cared on some level.

Fuck. He hates Kurt Hummel.

He actually hates the doorbell a little more though, which is saying a lot. It's ringing loudly through his spacious apartment and all he wants is to mope in his bed in complete silence. He ignores the first chime. If it's important it will ring again. There is a moment of peace before the blare of the bell sounds off again. He growls his frustration, his lips twisting into a scowl as he tosses his legs over the side of his mattress. He wrenches the door open right as the doorbell begins to chime again and—oh. He isn't expecting that.

Blaine looks distraught. His hair is a mass of messy, unwashed, black curls. His glasses sit crookedly on his nose and, if the state of his clothes is any clue, he's dressed in the same t-shirt and sweat pants that he slept in. The man doesn't wait for an invitation and pushes past Sebastian as soon as the door is opened wide enough to slip through.

Sebastian squeezes his eyes closed for a moment. He can do this. It's just Blaine and he's Sebastian fucking Smythe, heartless bastard and master of not giving a shit. So why is his stomach twisting into uncomfortable knots? He takes a deep breath and turns. "Blaine, what a surprise. How may I be of service?" He throws in a wink for good measure, marveling at how easily he can fall back into character.

"Kurt's cheating on me." The words pull him up short. There is no prelude, no feigned interest in small talk. Just those words.

"I—what?" Blaine nods, his head falls into his hands as if he's just too tired to hold it up any longer. Sebastian thinks that might actually be exactly the case. "How do you know?"

Tired, hazel eyes peak out from behind calloused fingers. "I've known for weeks. I mean I didn't know. I knew something was wrong about a month ago. He's been so distant, I thought—I don't know, I thought maybe finals were getting to him, you know? I mean I don't know why he would cheat. We don't fight, we aren't bored of each other, at least he doesn't act like it. And our sex life is still pretty good. We have sex all the time!" Sebastian's hand is tightening unconsciously around the base of his mug. His knuckles are white with the strength of the grip and why would Blaine ever think he would want to know about their sex life? "And it's good sex. Sometimes three times a night I just don't get—"

"Blaine!"

The dark head of hair shoots up, startled, "Yeah?"

"How do you know he's cheating on you?" Because Sebastian can't listen to another word about their apparently marvelous sex life or he's going to throw his mug at the man's face.

"Oh, right," his cheeks flush scarlet with embarrassment and Sebastian notices how pretty he looks. How the blush probably stretches across his chest, rosy and enticing against the skin normally so pale, smooth and milky and—shit. A flash of sea foam, green eyes flickers across his mind. Now is not the time to think about Kurt or the fascinatingly pretty blush he gets every once in a while when Sebastian catches him off guard. "It was just speculation at first like I said, I knew something was wrong, not what it was. Last night I…he asked me to get something out of his wallet and there was a condom in there. A condom, Sebastian."

"A condom," he deadpans, "your boyfriend is cheating on you because he has a condom in his wallet?" Now that he thinks about it, he should probably be encouraging Blaine's speculations, not discouraging them. Blaine gives him a sad smile.

"It wasn't his size. It wasn't—he usually tops. I like…I like him being inside me," Sebastian fights off a grimace, "so we only use one type. We still have half a box at home. And we haven't even used condoms in so long… I just—he's my life, Sebastian. What am I going to do?"

He doesn't know what to say. He's knows what he'd like to say "your boyfriend is cheating on you; dump him so he and I can fuck in peace," but that's not an option so he doesn't say anything.

It's late when Blaine leaves, the sun has long disappeared behind the tall buildings of New York City and Sebastian has never felt more exhausted in his entire life. He wants to sleep, to shut off his mind for the next eight hours and welcome the serenity that would offer. But his phone is staring at him, taunting him from the night stand. He wants to text Kurt, needs to talk to him. It's been too long and he doesn't know when it will be the last time, when it will be too late.

He picks up the phone, twirling it between long, graceful fingers for a moment before setting it back down. He can wait.

The sun wakes him up, not his alarm—which he had actually forgotten to set. He's already missed his first class, but the late hour doesn't catch his attention like the "2" in the middle of the bright red circle on his screen does. Of course the messages can be from anyone, are likely from someone else, but his heart pounds erratically at the prospect of it being Kurt.

He knows. An hour and a half ago.

I'm coming over. Ten minutes ago. Sebastian is pretty positive his heart has stopped beating because there isn't any blood reaching his brain. Or maybe too much because he suddenly has the biggest migraine of is his life. This isn't him, it's not who he is. He doesn't get panic attacks. Especially over skinny, effeminate boys that walk around like they own the universe and everyone in it.

Except Kurt isn't so much skinny as he is lean and toned. His features aren't really feminine, rather clean, bright, and sharp at times like the point of his nose and broad at others like the wide set of his shoulders. And if Kurt walks like he owns the universe it's because he has struggled, bled, and fought his way to the top, he's earned it.

Sebastian doesn't realize that he's spent fifteen minutes staring at the screen until it buzzes in his hand. Kurt's name flashes. Get your ass out of the bed and come open the door. That was something Kurt never did, knock on the door. His arrival was always accompanied by a text. Before now he had always found it secretly endearing. Don't get your panties in a twist, Hummel. He looks around for something, anything to comb out his mess of sleep mussed hair. His search turns up empty and he paws at his head with his fingers. It will have to be good enough. He takes a deep breath, secures a smirk onto his face, and swaggers to the door. "I would say what a pleasant surprise, but—"

"Cut the crap, Smythe. Move. I'm not having this conversation in your doorway." Sebastian frowns a little at the agitation in Kurt's voice. He hasn't heard it so sharp in over a month, since their first few times together. He's gotten used to the near-fond irritation that has lined their conversation for so long. This new tone puts him on edge.

"Of course your majesty," Sebastian sneers, bowing low at the waist, looking up to meet Kurt's glare with one of his own. "You've successfully dragged me from the comfort of my bed. Now, what do you want?" His voice is hardened, steeled by the nerves Kurt always manages to ride. He isn't sure if the stormy blue-green orbs soften or if it's just his imagination.

Kurt makes to say something but thinks better of it, closing his mouth over the half formed word. He shakes his head, as if the action will erase it from his being. "He knows, Sebastian. Blaine, he knows."

"Yeah. You said as much in your text. You really came all this way to say so again?"

"Sebastian."

"Get to the point, Kurt." Sebastian doesn't know why he's suddenly so irritable, why being in Kurt's presence has him on edge. He feels so unsure, but he doesn't know what about, or what he's waiting for. And then it hits him. He's waiting for the ball to drop, for the crash and burn of whatever they have formed between them. It's the only conceivable result for the two of them, and he's always known it, but he dreads it. Hopes to prolong the chaos for just a little longer, for as long as possible. And he can feel the steady beat of the timer ticking way at them. It's driving him mad.

"There isn't—I haven't. I don't know, Sebastian." Kurt's admission nearly doesn't reach Sebastian's ears, fading to an inaudible whisper as his cold façade fell away. "That's why I came. I thought—I don't know what I thought. Forget it." He straightens his back and pushes away a strand of hair that managed to get lose from the hairspray's hold. "I'll go."

Sebastian's hand flies out to latch onto the fleeing man's arm. "No, Kurt, wait. Wait a minute. Talk to me."

Glasz eyes flash with more emotion than Sebastian has ever been privileged enough to witness. Because he always keeps himself reserved, so reserved, careful not to let too much of himself through. The power in those eyes is almost frightening, dangerous, and beautiful. Sebastian is caught off-guard for a moment by the intensity of his sudden revelation—by the intensity in those eyes. "What is the point? Huh?" His eyebrows are drawn in, crinkling over his pointed nose and his cheeks are tinted a heated pink as he rips his arm out of Sebastian's grip. "What are we even doing?" Sebastian wants to pull him in close and wrap him up in his arms and protect him from everything. He wants to grab him by his shoulders and shake him until he can put some sense into his well-groomed head. He wants to wrap his hands around the back of Kurt's neck and bring their lips together to feel that passion.

"Whatever we want," he says, earning him a bark of humorless laughter.

"It's not that simple."

"Why isn't it?

"Because he knows, Sebastian. He doesn't know it's you, but he knows it's someone and it's killing him. You haven't seen how utterly destroyed he is." Sebastian decides against informing Kurt that yes, actually, he has seen how destroyed Blaine looks, that it's heart wrenching but he cares a little more about his own happiness than Blaine's. He's a selfish creature, he knows it, but it's self-preservation and Sebastian isn't one to roll over and die for the sake of someone else.

"So, what? You just left your poor, broken boyfriend in a pile on the floor to come yell at me?"

Kurt actually flinches at that and Sebastian feels a spike of remorse pierce his heart. Why is he completely incapable of thinking before he says things? "He's staying with his brother. He said—he thinks that we…that I need to time to figure out what I want. He's giving me a week. Actually, he refuses to come home before the week is over." Refuses. As in, going against Kurt's wishes. Because didn't want him to leave.

Sebastian feels sick. His head is pounding, his stomach is turning, forming knots low in his abdomen and it's a little harder to breathe. He's always known it would be this way, that if forced, Kurt would choose Blaine, but witnessing it now outside of the inner workings of his mind is so very different. The pain is so much more tangible, so real. And he doesn't understand why he can't just chalk this is up as a fun thing he had for a little while and move on with his life. "Seems like a waste of time on his part," Sebastian mumbles. He clears his throat and hopes it doesn't give him away. "Is this the bit where you say, 'this was fun, but it's over?' Because it's okay, I honestly don't need a heartfelt speech, Hummel. There was a time in my life where I lived solely off of one night stands and coffee; this isn't my first roller coaster."

Kurt doesn't say anything at first, just stands there and watches him with an indecipherable look that, for the life of him, Sebastian can't place. And then he shakes his head, slow and deliberate. And what does that even mean? "Fuck, I'm so stupid," Sebastian almost misses it, it's so soft. As if Kurt hadn't meant to speak aloud, maybe he hadn't. He isn't sure what that means. "I—I want…can we…? One more time." Sebastian's heart is beating so hard against his ribs that he's pretty sure it's going to beat right out of his chest and onto the floor. "So I can go back into it honestly, so that—so that I can leave this and not…not—" He stops him, placing a finger over Kurt's lips to end the rambling, and shushes him softly.

"Are you sure?" Because it's the only time he's going to ask. He has one chance. One more time with Kurt before he runs off to be with Blaine forever. He has one chance and unless Kurt objects right now he's going to take it. The shorter boy worries his bottom lip between his teeth, thinking for barely half a second before he nods and steps a little closer. It's all the assurance Sebastian needs. He crosses the distance between them with one long stride and cups the back of Kurt's head like he's wanted to, threading his fingers into the soft hair he's missed so much. He catches Kurt's eyes, holding his gaze until their lips touch. It's gentle, the slightest brush before Sebastian pulls back and watches Kurt's face for any sign of distress, testing the waters.

Kurt is the one to bring their mouths back together, cupping Sebastian's cheek and pressing up into him. He lets him. Lets Kurt control the force and rhythm of the kiss. Lets him use him in the way he needs. Because ultimately this is for Kurt. Regardless of what Sebastian is getting out of it, it's for Kurt, and for once in his life he's going to do what is best for someone else.

His hands drop to Kurt's waist as arms wind around his neck to bring their bodies closer. So close. The length of their torsos press together, firmly and completely as if the touch is what is keeping them alive. Sebastian thinks it might be keeping him alive, but he doesn't want to pull away to test that theory. He pushes closer until every inch of his body is making contact. Glorious, warm contact. His skin is practically singing with the pleasure of it. They stay like that for a while, pressed against each other, exchanging slow, heated kisses like they've never taken the time to do before. It's almost enough for him, just this closeness. They have all day, all night, there's no rush, no one waiting up on the couch for Kurt's return. Sebastian lets himself get sucked into the rhythmic movement of Kurt's lips against his, lets himself get comfortable because this is worth the pain it's going to cause him later. Kurt's tongue strokes into his mouth, almost shy though this isn't the first time it's been inside his mouth, and he hums his approval at the action. Relishing in the feel of it tickling the roof of his mouth, scoping, as if maybe Kurt is rememorizing it, committing it to memory for later. But he doesn't want to think about later, he wants to pretend that this isn't a onetime thing. That it's not the last time. He wants to pretend like he can do this forever, that he will do it forever. And with that thought he chases Kurt's retreating tongue with his own, nearly moaning with the taste of him. It's been too long since, he had almost forgotten how greatly Kurt's taste had always affected him.

Kurt pushes even closer—if that is at all possible—whining against Sebastian's lips, Kurt wants it just as much as he does and he will happily give it to him. Anything he wants. "Shh. Don't worry, baby. I'm going to take care of you," he breathes, the words brush against Kurt's lips and he thinks he feels them quiver. He peppers butterfly kisses along his jaw to his ear, not missing the small shiver that rocks Kurt's form. "Wrap your legs around me." There is no sign of hesitation when the long legs lift to do just that. Sebastian sucks a wet kiss into the crook of Kurt's neck as he secures the delightfully strong body against him, and makes the too long trek to his bedroom.

It's hard to keep his mind on walking and holding Kurt up at the same time when the man is nipping at the hinge of his jaw, sucking the skin into his mouth, and rubbing his face into the light stubble that Sebastian hasn't gotten around to shaving yet. But Kurt doesn't seem to mind, quite the contrary, and he gives thanks for small mercies.

He makes it to the bed just as his body threatens to give out against Kurt's ministrations, and lays him down as gently as he can manage. He's beautiful like this, all long limbs, lean muscles, and broad shoulders, stretched out across the bed. Waiting. Waiting for him, impossibly, blue eyes wide and trusting and wanting and so surreal that Sebastian wonders for a fraction of a second if he might be dreaming. But his imagination is nowhere near as good as this.

"Sebastian." The breathy plea shocks him out of his reverie, because Kurt is real, pleading and gorgeous and he just wants to drink in the sight of him until he's drowning in a mix of ivory, cerulean, and chestnut. Sebastian crawls slowly up the bed until he's looking directly into Kurt's eyes, his hand resting just under the hem of his shirt.

"I want to look at you," he says, tugging Kurt's shirt up in question. The blue-eyed boy sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, a nervous habit, and hesitates before nodding. He wants to tug that full lip into his mouth with his teeth and lavish it with his tongue, worship it. But the prospect of Kurt's naked body is slightly more tempting, so Sebastian leans forward and places a quick kiss on the tip of his upturned nose and pulls the concealing cloth up over his head. He wastes no time ridding him of the constricting denim, only stalling for a moment, before Kurt urges him forwards, to tug the briefs down the man's shapely legs. And then Kurt is bare, completely naked below him. Sebastian has never been able to take the time to just stare, to soak him up in all of his godlike glory, but he does now and he plans on memorizing every line, curve, freckle, and hair on his body. His eyes follow the curve of Kurt's slender neck to the dip in his collar bone, tracing down the crease that separates the muscles in his chest, before sloping over Kurt's protruding hipbones, and settling on his engorged cock, half hard and resting low on his abdomen. He's so beautiful, lean and smooth beneath Sebastian's unrelenting gaze. A rosy blush spreads across Kurt's face, traveling down his chest and he wants to lick at it. Loving the flush of blood on Kurt's milky white complexion. "Fuck, Kurt. You're so beautiful. So fucking perfect."

"Sebastian, please." He'll never tire of hearing his name out of Kurt's mouth like this. Like his needs him. And Sebastian can't resist the temptation anymore. He strokes up and down Kurt's thighs soothingly, placing kisses on the points of his hipbones before nosing up his length. He smells like clean sweat and the sandalwood body wash that Sebastian loves, it's mouthwatering. Kurt arches into the touch, pleading for something, anything, and Sebastian only teases a moment longer before sinking his mouth over the throbbing head. He tastes just like Sebastian remembers and he can't keep the little moan from vibrating out of his throat. Kurt gasps out a squeak of surprise that morphs into a groan of pleasure as Sebastian takes him down further and further until his nose presses into the tidy thatch of soft, brown curls at his base. He hollows out his cheeks, sucking as he pull half way off and dropped back down, humming as he swirls shapes onto Kurt's cock with the tip of tongue. He pulls off with a wet slurping sound, tonguing up the thick vein on the underside of it and licking over the slit.

Kurt's hand threads into Sebastian hair, not pushing or controlling, just holding like he needs a handle to keep him here on earth. Sebastian understands that. "You taste so good, Kurt. Feel so good on my tongue. Such a pretty cock." He sucks a wet kiss to the head, dipping the tip of his tongue into the slit to collect the precome there.

The man beneath him bucks up into attention with a wail, "God, Sebastian! I—I need—"

"I know." Sebastian kisses the tip a last time and trails more kisses up until he reaches a pert, pink nipple. "I'm going to take care of you," he assures him again before sucking the nub into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it the way he has learned Kurt likes best. "I'm going to take such good care of you," he whispers against the spit slick skin, and blows a stream of cool air over the small peak. Kurt shivers, exhaling a ragged breath as his fingers tighten their grip in Sebastian hair. "Look at you," he marvels, "So responsive to everything I do." He tugs experimentally at the other nipple with a forefinger and thumb, watching Kurt's face for a response. His eyes shutter closed as his mouth falls open, and his head tips back into the pillow with a shaky sigh. Sebastian licks down Kurt's stomach, stopping every so often to suck at the skin or whisper a mantra of "so beautiful, taste so good." He bypasses Kurt's raging erection, trailing his tongue down his inner thigh before cupping the underside of his legs and pushing them up so Kurt's puckered, pink hole is bared and vulnerable. He places a singular kiss over the sphincter, enjoying the way Kurt jumps. This is his favorite thing, Sebastian knows though Kurt has never actually voiced as much. He knows Blaine doesn't do this for him, doesn't realize how much Kurt enjoys having something in his ass. His weakness is Sebastian's most valuable weapon.

Sebastian licks a broad strip over the little hole, unable to repress the smirk that's been eating away at the corners of his lips for ten minutes, when Kurt stutters out another cry containing his name. And he's convinced it's never sounded so good coming from anyone else's mouth before. But he gives in, pressing his tongue into the tight space, humming a sound of satisfaction when the walls tighten around him and Kurt keens, arching off the bed but still managing to fuck himself back onto Sebastian. "Oh god! Yes, don't stop!" Kurt cries. And Sebastian has no plans of doing anything of the sort. He swirls the appendage around the rim, cupping Kurt's balls and massaging them with every stroke of his tongue.

"Do you like that, baby? Like my tongue hot and wet inside you?" Sebastian rasps.

"Yes," Kurt moans, trying to push Sebastian's face back to his abandoned entrance. He snickers, nipping Kurt's thigh and pulling his face back. He rubs over him with thumb, just massaging the surface, as he whispers into Kurt's skin.

"Do you love it?"

"Yes! Seb—"

But he's not finished yet. "No one knows what you like better than I do, do they, Kurt?" The other man whines pushing back into his thumb but it doesn't press inside him. "Who else makes you feel like this, baby?" he takes his thumb away, licking fleetingly against Kurt's touch-yearning asshole.

"You. Only you, Sebastian. Please make me feel good," he begs. And Sebastian has never heard him sound so positively broken before, so needy and wanting. The fire in his belly flares up, sending tendrils of heat up his already hard cock.

"Tell me what you want, Kurt. I'll give you anything." He doesn't notice the double meaning behind the words, but he doesn't try to defend them because it's true. He'll give Kurt anything at all.

If he notices it, he doesn't voice it. Instead he grinds back onto the finger Sebastian is pressing into his entrance. "You," he gasps. "I want you to fuck me. Please." He sounds so desperate, so unsure, as if he truly believes there is a possibility that Sebastian would say no. As if he ever could. Sebastian doesn't think there's anything that he could ever deny Kurt, even if that thing ripped Sebastian in two. He's never thought of it before, never let himself dwell on his feelings long enough to put them into perspective but he is now. And he honestly doesn't know what he's going to do when it's all over and Kurt has walked out of his life forever. The thought scares him, sparks a new burst of determination in him.

Sebastian pulls himself back up to hover over Kurt's face, which is flushed, shiny with the thinnest layer of sweat. He kisses him hard on the mouth, something to ground him for the moment and Kurt presses up into it with the same amount of force. Maybe he needs grounding too. And then he's pulling away, nibbling at Sebastian's earlobe before whispering, "I want to feel you." He pulls back and surveys Sebastian's face, looking for some specific reaction and when he doesn't find the one he's looking for he leans in again. "Only you," then in a nearly inaudible breath, "So I can't pretend you away."

Realization slams into Sebastian with the force of a tractor trailer. He sucks in a sharp breath. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. Why aren't you naked yet?" Kurt snips half-heartedly in an attempt to diffuse the intensity of the moment. Sebastian cracks a half-smirk and straddles his torso with a lifted eyebrow.

"Why haven't you stripped me yet?" The response is a surprisingly deep growl before Kurt springs up and flips them around so Sebastian lands on his back with Kurt between his legs. His hands tug on the edge of Sebastian's shirt as he leers down at him.

"Let's remedy that shall we?" Sebastian finds himself void of clothing in three seconds flat with Kurt bobbing at his dick like he's getting paid to do it. And at any other time he would have laid back and enjoyed Kurt's hot mouth on him, because honestly, Sebastian has never gotten a better blowjob than one from Kurt. But this is his last time and Sebastian doesn't want to spend it coming down his throat. Mostly. With more willpower than he ever thought he possessed, Sebastian latches his hand around the back of Kurt's head and pulls him of his cock. Kurt's lips are red and swollen; his bottom lip sticking out in a pout that brings Sebastian somewhere between giggles and growling. "What was that for?" Kurt whines, crawling back up Sebastian's body and resting his chin on his hands.

Sebastian smiles, threading his fingers idly through the brown tresses. "I didn't want to ruin everything by coming too soon." Kurt's mouth drops down into a perfect 'o.' "How do you want to do this?" Because this is all for him, Sebastian's desires are irrelevant at this moment and he knows that in the end he'll be satisfied with whatever makes Kurt happy.

"I—face to face. I want…" he pauses, biting at his lip and looking insecure for the first time.

"What do you want, Kurt? I told you, I'll give you anything," Sebastian whispers in his ear.

"I-I want. You. On top of me. Face to face." And oh. That isn't something they've ever done before. It seems strange given all the other positions they had found themselves in, but that one had been too intimate. Filled with too promise. And it's either the best or worst decision in the universe, he can't be sure, but he knows there isn't any middle ground here. Nevertheless, he wants it too, despite the outcome, it's what he's been wanting since he decided to go along with this fiasco. And Kurt is such a perfect human being for it, like he knows what Sebastian needs.

"Anything you want," he assures him, pulling him down into a deep kiss that is all tongues and heat and teeth nipping at lips. Their tongues stroke against each other in a strange dance, pressing and exploring the secret crevices of each other's mouths. Kurt sinks into him, letting his weight rest completely on the man beneath him and then Sebastian flips then, pinning Kurt to the bed with the solid weight of him. He reaches into the nightstand table for the half full bottle of lube and pushes the hair away from Kurt's face. "Are you ready?" The response is the grinding of Kurt's hard dick into Sebastian's hip and he wastes no more time pouring a generous amount into his palm and slicking up his fingers. Sebastian rests the long legs over his shoulder, relishing in the strength and weight of them, at the pure, often overlooked masculinity of Kurt's body.

The first finger slides into the already slick entrance with only slight resistance, taking it up to the third knuckle as Sebastian fucks the digit into Kurt's ass with his 'request' of "fuck, Sebastian! Harder!" He pushes it in a few more times, marveling at the tightness and the heat that never ceased to amaze him. "You're always so tight, Kurt. You're going to feel so good around me. I'll make you feel so good." He pulls all the way out, pressing back in with a second finger, scissoring and swirling them inside him. Kurt moans, tightening the grip of his legs and Sebastian drags his fingers down, pressing against his wall then –ah ha. He crooks his finger just so, brushing against the little bundle of nerves and Kurt wails, arching off the bed so sharply that Sebastian is almost afraid for his spine.

"I'm stretched! It's enough, please. Please get inside me," he begs. It's so tempting, Sebastian wants to give in but he's only up to two fingers and this isn't about causing pain or getting revenge.

"Baby, be patient. You aren't stretched enough. Let me do one more finger."

"Sebastian, please. I want to still feel you in the morning." And yeah, any reason he could ever have come up with just evaporated with that one sentence.

"Kurt, are you—"

"I'm sure! I want it." Sebastian tries to assess his face, uncover any hint of hesitation but there isn't any and he can't deny Kurt a request like that. He pulls himself up, hovering over Kurt as he lubes up his cock with too much lube, anything to sooth the pain he knows is likely. He settles over him, balancing his weight on his elbows as the head of dick presses against Kurt's ass. This is it. They lock eyes, a flash of green and blue flame and then Sebastian pushes in, sucking in a breath at the tightness enveloping him. He has to restrain himself from thrusting in completely, because Kurt needs a chance to get used to the intrusion with so little preparation, but it's one of the most difficult things he's ever done. His head drops into the crook of Kurt's neck, his forehead resting there until the man below him in comfortable.

He doesn't have to wait long before Kurt whispers, "Move." Sebastian groans in relief, pressing in inch by inch until he bottoms out with a final thrust inside Kurt's tight ass, clenching around him.

"Shit, Kurt," he gasps. But he doesn't have to elaborate, because Kurt understands and bucks up against him until Sebastian's balls slap against his skin. They both moan at the depth, at the completeness they fill. Sebastian's hands find Kurt's above his head and secured them there with interlaced fingers. Not as a restraint for Kurt, but for the closeness. Because hand holding somehow seems more intimate than sex and maybe that's wrong, but it's true, and Sebastian wants to be as close as possible. He thinks Kurt must understand because he squeezes his fingers as Sebastian pulls all the way out and pushes in again, slow and deep. They are lost in the push and pull, in the heat of their skin, and their locked gazes which have yet to falter. It's too much, far too much. Sebastian has never felt so overwhelmed with emotion in his life. It's scary but comforting at the same time. Too much and not enough, and he wonders what Kurt is thinking, or if he's thinking at all, as his back arches, and his hips buck to meet him thrust for thrust.

Sebastian's changes the angle, hitting more left, rocking deep inside Kurt and dragging against his prostate when he pulls back. Kurt cries something incomprehensible as his head flies back into the pillow. He does it again, pounding into the smaller boy with a renewed fervor. Kurt is babbling now, mumbling and keening phrases and words that Sebastian doesn't really catch, but it doesn't matter because he understands the meaning behind them. "God, you feel so good Kurt. So good, my beautiful boy, taking it. Fuck, look at you," he moans, disconnecting an interlocked hand to wrap around Kurt's swollen dick. "I could do this forever, just be inside you. Like your ass is made for me."

"Don't stop!" Kurt wails, "Never stop." Sebastian doubts he even registers what he's saying at this point, the 'never stop' repeats itself in his head, and if Sebastian had a choice, he never would. He would keep Kurt here, pressed against him in complete and utter bliss, crying his name and begging him not to go, not to pull away.

"Never," Sebastian promises, synchronizing the movement of his hand on Kurt's cock with his thrusts into his ass. They're shaking, shinning with sweat, as they pick up the pace trying to be so close, trying to crawl inside each other's skin.

Kurt's eyes fly open at a particularly hard drive, catching on Sebastian's and holding them. They're alight with something, with some strong emotion that Sebastian can't name, and then his hand cups Sebastian's jaw and pulls him down to touch lips. It's not really a kiss, more of a open-mouthed mingling of breath as their bodies roll against each other in waves and their tongues reach out to swipe at the other every so often. They're so close, so hot, so needy, and full at the same time. Sebastian has never felt so perfect in his life. Kurt's legs shake from their place on his shoulders, vibrating with the exertion of their coupling, with the closeness of his climax.

Sebastian drives into him more fully, brushing Kurt's prostate with every thrust, stroking his cock and whispering nonsensical praises into his lips. He's moaning, bucking, arching into Sebastian like he can't get enough of him, life his life is depending on it and he knows Kurt is close. "Let go, Kurt," he breathes before capturing Kurt's mouth in a kiss that can only be described as goodbye. He's throwing himself into, submitting the taste of him, the heat of him, the velvety softness of Kurt's mouth to memory, because he won't ever have this again. Not with Kurt. He pushes in and twists his fist just so, and Kurt comes with Sebastian's name on his lips. Sebastian makes to pull out and finish himself off, careful not to overwhelm Kurt so soon after coming, but Kurt constricts his muscles round Sebastian's cock. Pushing himself onto the rigid phallus.

"No, in me. I want you to come inside of me, Sebastian." His eyes roll back in his head at the words, picking back up in the set rhythm, though more gentle now. Kurt's fingers stroke his face, mapping it out like he's committing it to memory. They've done so much of that today. Soft kisses trail along his cheek bones, over the point of his nose and down, finally falling to his lips. "You're so gorgeous," he whispers, "So beautiful." Kurt's voice is so loving, warm and comforting and overwhelming. And he has never said anything like that to Sebastian before so it takes him by surprise. But Kurt is holding on to him, his hands are strong and persistent and Sebastian can barely keep from losing himself in him. "Come for me, beautiful. I want to watch you fall apart." That's all it takes, Kurt's wrecked voice in his ear and he comes hard, his dick twitching and spurting streams of hot semen deep into Kurt's belly.

They collapse together; there are no words, no movements other than the soft exhale of breath and the rise and fall of their chests as they fall into unconsciousness.

Sebastian doesn't remember falling asleep, but he must have because he awakes blissfully warm and content like he can't remember eve being before. There is movement, something stroking over his chest and his eyes fly open to find Kurt awake, watching him, and there. He hadn't left. Kurt always left. "Kurt?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

"Hi," he says back and trails a nimble finger down a trail of light chest hair.

"You're still here." More than that he's half lying on him, cuddling into Sebastian's side by his own freewill.

"I…yes. I am."

"Why?"

"Because we—we need to talk." Sebastian's stomach twists into uncomfortable knots because he knows what's coming, but he appreciates Kurt having enough consideration to leave him after he's woken up. He nods, looking anywhere but at the, now sea-foam green, eyes that watch him so closely. "That wasn't just sex." It was a statement, but it sounded more like a question to Sebastian. He shook his head. Kurt's sharp inhale vibrates into his ears. "O-okay. Okay, so that was…that was more than sex. Okay." He's mumbling to himself, speaking as if he's trying to make sense of it himself and can't seem to wrap his head around the idea. Because Kurt's right, it wasn't just sex; it wasn't just a quick fuck. They weren't just getting off on mutual attraction, they had made love. And the idea is so foreign to the both of them, so scary and what are they supposed to do with that? Sebastian picks up little phrases in Kurt's mumbling, half listening until he hears, "I have a week. I have a week." And Sebastian's ears jump to attention because Kurt is—Kurt is trying to justify more days with him.

"Kurt," he finally speaks, his voice threatens to rack and give out on him, but he needs to say it, but if he doesn't he'll be lost forever. "We can never do this again." He lifts his eyes to finally meet Kurt's shocked, wide questioning eyes. He swallows the lump in his throat, trying to keep himself together. He has to keep it together.

"What? Sebastian I—"

"No, Kurt. Listen to me. I can't. We can't, not anymore. You said it yourself. That was more than sex, so much more. And if I—if we continue whatever this is, I won't be able to stop. I'll let you destroy me, Kurt. I'll ask you to destroy me. Myself is all I have left, but if you asked me, I would offer it up to you on a silver platter. I wouldn't think twice. I'm begging you right now to not ask that of me."

He can feel Kurt's eyes boring into him, can feel the burn of them in his soul, at his core. And he's about ready to take back everything he just said when Kurt finally speaks. "Sebastian." The word is strangled, cracked and when he looks up he realizes it's more of the mouth it came out of than the word itself because fat tears are falling down Kurt's cheeks. It makes his heart hurt. He wants to fix it, want to take him in and hold all the pain for him so he'll his tiny-toothed smile that is so rarely ever aimed in is direction. "I'm so sorry." He doesn't have to say why, they both know why and Sebastian clenches his eyes shut tight for a moment, nodding his acceptance of the apology before lifting Kurt's hand up to his lips with one of his and placing a kiss in the center of his palm.

"Promise me you won't forget this," he whispers, "When you leave here today, promise me ten years from now you'll still remember this. Today. Right here." He knows there's a tear falling down his cheek but he doesn't have the energy to wipe it away. He doesn't have to, Kurt does it for him before holding his face so firmly in his hands and staring into his eyes.

"That's not even possible," Kurt tells him, "I couldn't forget you if I tried." His eyes flicker down to Sebastian's lips then back again. "Can I kiss you?" His voice is desperate in Sebastian's ears and even though he knows he shouldn't, that it'll make things worse, he can never deny Kurt.

He barely gives his nod before Kurt's mouth crashes into his, searing, persistent, and hard. This kiss is goodbye, this kiss is the words they dare not say to each other, this kiss is forever. Sebastian can feel his throat constricting, his eyes burning with unshed tears so he pushes closer, hoping to lose himself a little farther in the man he has grown to lo—need so desperately.

When Kurt pulls away at last, his lips are swollen, bruised cherry red from the abuse, his breath comes in sharp gasps against Sebastian lips. It would be almost comical if he didn't know he looked exactly the same. Kurt's fingers are wound tightly in his hair, his palms still resting on his face like he can't bear to let go and it's like a knife in his chest because this is hard for him too, but as hard as it is, Kurt is still leaving him because leaving Blaine would be harder. Swift, firm kisses press into every inch of his face, making it back to his lips once more before suddenly all the contact is lost. His skin quivers with the sudden drop in temperature, his nose burns with the loss of sandalwood and Kurt's shampoo, his lips ache for more because they don't understand that Sebastian can't handle anymore or he's going to break. He feels like just this is going to break him, and if one has to do it, why can't it be the one where he can be happy for a little while? But Kurt is pulling his clothes on, running around the room, too fast for Sebastian's eyes to keep up. He doesn't look up, doesn't try to watch him. He knows if he doesn't it'll be all over.

When the clank of the front door closing echoes around the apartment, Sebastian allows himself to give into the wave of tears he's been fighting back.

Well, I suck at smut. I'm under-practiced, which is kind of ridiculous since most of this series is sex. But whatever. Let me know what you thought, yes? I thrive on feedback. And I love learning what I can fix. Plus, I mean, it takes two seconds. You know?

Also for anyone interested, I have two more installments planned for this verse. They'll be posted as separate stories so, there's still hope guys. And if you're not interested thanks for stopping by for this one! :)