Note: Okay, I checked all airports with flights to NY within 100 miles of Lima, Ohio, and they all seem to be tiny, tiny little hubs with souvenir shops and Starbucks only. I didn't know this when I wrote part 1. Please suspend disbelief and pretend like the airport they are going to has some actual designer shops like bigger airports do, ok? :)

****PART 2 ****

They managed to get off McKinley grounds without arousing any suspicion, as everyone at the school was still busy consoling Blaine. Sebastian quietly wondered why no one was even looking for Kurt, not even his so-called friends, but sharing this with Kurt seemed cruel, so he kept his mouth shut. They got into his car.

"Nice," Kurt commented, shifting a little on the leather of the passenger seat and looking over the dashboard.

"It's alright," Sebastian said, shrugging. "It has trouble starting in winter and getting new parts is a bitch."

"That's what you get for wanting to show off with a European car," Kurt remarked. "Are you using a fuel conditioner?"

Sebastian looked at him from the side. Kurt rolled his eyes. "Just ask next time you fill her up. It'll help."

"Yeah? What do you know about cars?" Sebastian asked. They pulled out onto the highway.

Kurt looked out of the window. "My dad owns an auto shop. I used to help him out after school."

"Wow."

They drove in silence for a while. Then, Kurt shifted in his seat again to look at Sebastian. "What do you mean, 'wow'? Is it really that hard to imagine I might actually be interested in something guys like?" He sounded defensive.

Sebastian blinked at Kurt's sudden passion. "I just meant wow. I never had a job after school."

Kurt huffed. "Surprise, surprise," he mumbled.

"Yeah, and you're not judgemental at all," Sebastian replied under his breath. Then he sighed. "Look, I tried to apologise just now and you wouldn't have it- which is fine, I know I treated you like crap – but you have to stop assuming that everything I say is another insult, because it's not, okay? I got the message: that stuff is not cool. No more prejudices, no more jokes. Can you please take what I say at face value from now on?"

Kurt was quiet for a moment.

"There's a joke about your face in there somewhere but I guess I should lead by good example," he offered lightly.

"Thanks," Sebastian said. He was really starting to realise that he couldn't shake off his past, no matter how he tried. First with Blaine assuming he had stolen their Nationals trophy, then with everyone assuming he was the brains behind the doping scandal, and now this. It was like no one believed him when he said he had bettered himself after David. Maybe that's exactly what you deserve, a voice in his head told him- and that voice sounded suspiciously like Kurt.

The real Kurt, however, had put on the car stereo and was humming softly to the music. It was nice, Sebastian thought; better than trying to hold a decent conversation anyway, so he kept quiet the rest of the way and just listened.

When they reached the airport, Kurt was practically out of the car before Sebastian had parked properly. "Come on, we only have three and a half hours left!" he said eagerly. His enthusiasm was kind of infectious, though Sebastian did hope there'd be enough left on his credit card to last him the rest of the month.

When they got into the main hall, Kurt's shoulders slumped. "Ugh. I forgot most of the good shops are actually behind check-in." He glanced at the check-in counter. "You're eighteen, right?"

Sebastian blinked. "Of course. I was held back a year after transferring from Paris." He looked at Kurt from the side. What did that have to do with anything?

"I thought so. Come on," Kurt said, looking determined, and took Sebastian's hand.

"What the-?" Sebastian started to say, but Kurt silenced him with a single look and pulled him towards the counter. As they got there, Kurt put on a sugary sweet smile and beamed at the woman behind the desk.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" she asked politely, her eyes sparkling a little as she looked down on their entwined hands.

"I hope so," Kurt breathed. "I'm flying to New York in 3 hours and we really, really need an extra ticket on that flight." He reached into his coat and put his ticket on the counter.

"Kurt!" Sebastian protested, but Kurt squeezed his hand hard.

"Oh, I'm sorry, that flight is completely booked," the woman replied, looking sympathetically miserable for them. "Maybe a later flight for you both-?"

"No, you don't understand. We have to get there as soon as possible," Kurt insisted, and stood on his toes to lean over the counter and whisper into the woman's ear. "We're eloping." He dropped back onto his heels. "My boyfriend's father- I mean, my fiancé's father," he corrected himself, and he offered Sebastian an adoring smile, "is hell-bent on stopping us, but we're both of age so there's really nothing he can do if we can just get to New York...please, you have to help us. I'm scared of what he will do." Kurt sounded genuinely upset.

The woman sighed. "Maybe if I put your fiancé on stand-by," she muttered, and started tapping away on her keyboard.

"That would be perfect," Kurt replied. He turned to Sebastian. "This is so romantic," he sighed dreamily, and Sebastian just stared at him. Those acting classes at NYADA were worth every penny of Kurt's tuition. The way Kurt looked at him almost made him believe Kurt actually wanted him to come with him to New York.

"This is the best I can do," the woman said apologetically as she slid over the stand-by ticket. "If you don't get on, it'll help with your chances for the next flight."

"Thanks," Sebastian mumbled, pulling out his credit card. He tried not to think about how many Dalton cafeteria meals this ticket had just cost him.

Mistaking his short reply for worry, the woman offered Sebastian a reassuring smile. "We have really good airport security here," she said. "And once you're checked in, your dad won't be able to get to you unless he buys a stand-by ticket too. And if he asks, I'll just tell him the waiting lists are too long already." She sounded very pleased with herself.

Kurt let out a happy squeak. Sebastian managed a grateful smile.

"This is wonderful. Thank you so much!" Kurt exclaimed happily, and he threw in a hug around Sebastian's shoulders for effect. "This is it, honey, we're really doing this."

"I can hardly believe it," Sebastian muttered.

"I wish you all the happiness in the world," the woman said fondly.

Kurt didn't let go of Sebastian's hand until they were out of sight of the counter. "I should have kept Blaine's ring," he mused, wiping his palm on his jeans. "Would have made it even more convincing."

"It was pretty convincing already," Sebastian assured him, still thinking of the way Kurt had looked at him, and the brief hug they had shared. Was that was Kurt was really like when he was in love?

"I know. I'm good," Kurt stated. "Now let's get started."

As soon as they entered the first shop, Sebastian looked out for the 'boyfriend couch'; a seat by the changing rooms where bored spouses could sit while their partners shopped. But when he spotted it, Kurt shook his head. "No, no, no. You're not getting off that easily. You're going to help me, Sebastian. I'll need someone to fetch me new sizes of things so I don't have to get dressed every time."

Sebastian opened his mouth to say something, but then changed his mind. There was something about the idea of Kurt getting undressed that made him realise this might not be the worst job in the world.

Half an hour later, however, he had already changed his mind. This was horrible. The only bare part Sebastian got to see of Kurt was his arm as it thrust clothes hangers at him through the changing curtain, ordering a size smaller of this, a different colour of that. Sometimes he'd give directions to where he had found the stuff, but most of the time he simply let Sebastian walk through the store aimlessly until he found the right rack.

Every now and then, Kurt would push the curtain open and show Sebastian what his latest delivery looked like on him. Bored out of his mind and not sure if his job-description involved praise or not, Sebastian would just nod politely- causing Kurt to narrow his eyes and reject outfit after outfit. One thing Sebastian noticed as he fetched new sizes of everything, was that the things Kurt was trying on kept getting smaller.

"You know, this one has even less fabric than the last one, but it's twice as expensive," Sebastian commented as he pushed a pair of metallic skinny jeans through the curtain. "How is that logical?" He didn't really expect Kurt to answer, but after a few moments, a reply came.

"Fashion- ugh. Is not – ngh! About logic. Ah. Fuck!" Kurt grunted.

Sebastian frowned. What the hell was he doing in there?

Before he could ask, Kurt opened the curtain and revealed himself. Sebastian's mouth went dry. The jeans fit Kurt like a second skin, making his thighs and calves shimmer and sparkle. The light from the dressing room reflected almost blindingly off the bulge in his crotch.

"Um...wow," Sebastian said, unable to come up with anything more articulate.

Kurt spun around and looked at himself in the mirror, giving Sebastian the opportunity to check out his outfit from behind. It was getting harder for Sebastian to breathe. He sucked in his lower lip and chewed it desperately.

Kurt caught his eyes in the mirror. "Yes, I think I'll take this," he said, sounding satisfied.

From then on, his game plan began to show. More tight jeans followed, combined with tank tops, sheer shirts and one exceptional mesh piece with several leather straps and buckles (which he asked Sebastian to do up on his back). Sebastian didn't even care what he was spending now. Kurt was presenting him with so much bedroom fantasy material that it beat any monthly internet porn fee. He handed his credit card over to the delighted store managers over and over without hesitation.

"I think I'm done," Kurt announced as they exited another boutique.

"Are you sure?" Sebastian asked, his arms full of glossy shopping bags and boxes. "I mean, uh. Thank god," he quickly corrected himself. Down boy, he quietly reprimanded himself.

"Yes, I think we'll find you something to wear now."

Sebastian froze. "Me? I don't need anything."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Yes, you do. You won't be at Dalton forever, you know."

"I do have other clothes than my uniform," Sebastian protested. The thought of getting undressed right here and now was a little daunting.

Kurt snorted. "Yeah. Polo shirts. Come on. I know what I'm doing." He lead Sebastian into one of the last shops on the airport's shopping boulevard. A store manager with dollar signs in her eyes eagerly offered to let them deposit their other shopping behind the counter so they'd be free to look around, and so Sebastian found himself being pushed empty-handed into a changing stall.

"Stay here. I'll be right back," Kurt commanded.

Sebastian took the moment of privacy to remind himself (and the situation in his pants) exactly why he was there. This was all a favour to Kurt, something to make up for his shitty behaviour from the past. If Kurt wanted to give him a make-over, so be it. He'd probably look ridiculous in the end, but once Kurt was in New York, he wouldn't be able to check if Sebastian ever wore the things he'd make him buy anyway. He'd just have to get through the next hour or so without making a douchy move, and then Kurt would be on his way, and Sebastian's conscience would be clear.

"Okay, try this, with this shirt and this jacket," Kurt said, pushing a few hangers into Sebastian's hand, "and after that the jeans and the vest. But show me first." He pulled away from the swinging door of the changing stall.

Sebastian looked at the clothing in his hands. The blazer jacket had a rather flashy pattern on it that reminded him of pictures from his parents in the 80s, but the slacks were plain and the shirt looked passable too, a simple off-white with a rolled sleeve and a V neck. Maybe he could wear them without the jacket sometimes. He slipped out of his uniform and into the new things, steeling himself before putting on the jacket too. He looked in the mirror and winced.

"You're out there waiting with your phone, aren't you?" he asked Kurt through the door. "You want to put this on the internet to embarrass me."

"No, I'm not," came the answer. "Just come out."

Sebastian took a deep breath and stepped out of the stall. "I look like WHAM," he said.

Kurt cocked his head. "Hmm."

"What?" Despite his personal misgivings, Sebastian had thought Kurt would at least be happy about his own choice.

Kurt turned on his heel and stalked to a rack with accessories, returning with a belt. He looked so serious Sebastian briefly wondered if he should be looking for cover. But Kurt simply walked up to him, pushed the jacket out of the way a little, and started threading the belt through Sebastian's belt loops, taking no more notice of him than if he were a modeling dummy.

Sebastian straightened up and put his arms out to the side, giving Kurt more room to reach around him. He realised he was holding his breath a little, but breathing out now would mean breathing into Kurt's hair, so he kept it in. Kurt reached the last loops on the front and tightened the belt buckle over Sebastian's clenched abs. Sebastian was about to breathe out when a slim hand brushed his stomach and tucked the tshirt into the front of his slacks. He let out a frustrated huff. It was like Kurt was daring him to say something about it, to be inappropriate, just so he could prove that Sebastian hadn't changed.

He tried very hard not to rise to the bait, but although he kept his tongue under control, the rest of him wasn't so obedient.

"So?" he asked, as Kurt stepped away to view his handiwork.

Kurt narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "No. It's too Dalton. We need to get you away from the blazers entirely. Try the jeans, I'll get you a scarf or something for the vest."

Sebastian couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, but he stepped back into the stall and started putting on the jeans. He didn't get far. "Um, Kurt? Are you there?" he asked. There was no reply. With the opened jeans halfway onto his hips, Sebastian peeked out of the door. Kurt was coming his way, seemingly immersed in touching the fabric of a white and blue scarf in his hands. "Kurt," Sebastian said again as soon as he was close enough to hear. "I need a bigger size of this."

Kurt wrapped the scarf around his wrist and studied it. "No, you don't," he said absentmindedly. "Just try harder." He glanced up at Sebastian, and Sebastian rolled his eyes. He let the door fall closed and tugged at the jeans. It was impossible.

"If I try any harder I'll need to enroll at Crawford Country Day," Sebastian muttered. He heard Kurt sigh dramatically.

The door of the changing stall swung open and Kurt stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He hung the scarf on a hook. There wasn't much room for the two of them, and with mirrors on two walls, Sebastian felt like he was trapped between three Kurts. The thought wasn't doing much to further his prospects of fitting in the jeans.

"The trick is in the tuck," Kurt said, stepping up to Sebastian until they were almost touching. He lifted his chin and his lips curled up in a little smile. He fixed Sebastian with his eyes, and put a hand on Sebastian's crotch. Sebastian breathed in sharply. He could tell a dare when he saw one, so he said nothing, though his heart started racing. Kurt's palm was heavy and warm, and it took a lot to keep himself from leaning into his touch.

"Just...push it out of the way of the center seam," Kurt said in a low voice, his hand tightening a little as he did just so, "and then hold it down while you pull up the zipper." His other hand joined the first.

Sebastian bit his lip and frowned. Kurt's sultry voice was counterproductive to his goal- unless his goal was utter humiliation and a broken zipper. But Kurt knew what he was doing, and very slowly, he was actually getting it to zip up. It was painfully snug, and Sebastian was torn between telling Kurt to hurry up or to slow down and let him breathe.

"Now for the button," Kurt announced, moving his head to the side of Sebastian's face to whisper into his ear. "Hold your breath." He brushed his lips over Sebastian's jaw. Instinctively, Sebastian closed his eyes and let his head fall back. He sighed as Kurt's slim fingers slipped inside the waistband of the jeans, brushing the sensitive skin of his abdomen- and yelped as Kurt pulled the band tighter with a short jerk, pushing the button through the hole before letting go. Sebastian doubled over and sank to his knees, which only increased the pressure on his stomach and thighs.

Kurt stepped away, pushing the stall open with his back. "I have a plane to catch," he said. "You should take the jeans. I kind of like this look on you."

Sebastian looked up at Kurt in disbelief as his fingers dug into the fabric to try and open the button. It felt like the waistband was cutting off all circulation to his legs. As he finally managed to get it open, the zipper followed of its own accord. Sebastian sucked in a deep breath and sighed.

"That was unfair," he said hoarsely.

"But fun," Kurt countered. He offered Sebastian his hand to help him up. "Just breathe. You'll survive."

Sebastian took Kurt's hand and winced as he rose to his feet. "I suppose this was a lesson about me making fun of your clothes?" He certainly had a new respect for the stuff Kurt went through to look this hot.

Kurt shrugged mock-innocently. "Maybe. Or maybe I just needed a rebound grope." He winked. "I should get to my gate. Thanks for the clothes."

Sebastian watched him walk to the counter and collect his shopping bags. He wondered if he should try to use his stand-by ticket. He had paid for it after all. If he got onto the flight, he could tag along, maybe see if Kurt needed a rebound something-else too.

But knowing that even if that happened, it would be once and never again, and he'd have to return back to Ohio and face the consequences of ditching school in the middle of the week (which on his academic probation would probably mean expulsion) made Sebastian cut his losses and let Kurt walk away.

That didn't mean he'd forget about their afternoon, however. In half a year he'd be graduating. Maybe now was the time to ask his dad if he could pull some strings at NYU and see if they could overlook his record with the application. Once in New York, he could look up Kurt again (if his first year over there was any indication, Kurt would only be even hotter by then) and see if he was interested in something more than a rebound. Until then, Sebastian had quite a few visuals from their shopping spree to keep him company.

Pleased with his plan, Sebastian quickly rid himself of the jeans (which he would not be buying as he wasn't a masochist) and rubbed his stomach for a moment before reaching for his clothes. Maybe he should buy the scarf. Kurt had seemed mesmerised by its fabric. He slipped into his uniform trousers and, for the first time since starting at Dalton, really appreciated their loose fit. Just then, he felt his phone vibrate. It was a text.

Do you want to come to Scandals? I know you're still angry at me but you owe me a chance to make up. Drinks on me? ~B.

Sebastian smirked. Apparently Blaine had decided he needed a little more than the platonic comfort of his groupies. For a moment, wild plans shot through Sebastian's brain of getting Blaine into a compromising position and sending pictures of it to Kurt to further solidify the notion that he had made the right choice in dumping him. It would definitely have been something he would have done half a year ago. But then he realised it would probably hurt Kurt more than it would help.

Sebastian draped the scarf over his arm and typed a reply.

I don't owe you a thing. I'm blocking this number. P.S. I told Eli you have crabs.

Satisfied with his answer, Sebastian went to the counter to pay.

A few days later, the first picture showed up on Kurt's newsfeed. It showed Sebastian, standing next to his car and pointing at the sign of Hummel's Tires & Lube. The caption said: Fuel Conditioner. He was wearing the scarf. Other pictures followed. The Warblers backstage at a local competition, Sebastian with the scarf tucked into his uniform pocket. Lucky Charm. A few hours later, the first prize cup with the scarf tied around it like a bow. In the weeks that followed, the pictures always had a similar theme.

By the time Sebastian uploaded a picture of himself wearing the scarf and holding his application letter to NYU, he didn't need to check his phone to see who had 'liked' his status first. It was always Kurt.