A/N: Okay, this is another one-shot I wrote that I wasn't too impressed with. I wrote it for the Kurtbastian Hiatus prompt "missing moments", but then I thought it might not apply since I kind of screwed with the timeline. Anyway, it takes place during The Quarterback, except Blaine didn't propose to Kurt.

The wool jacket hangs heavy on his shoulders - heavier than he thought it would feel. Kurt had joined the football team once, but he didn't get a jacket. He didn't letter, and the bulky thing didn't go with a thing he owned anyway.

Besides, after years of Slushies to the face and shoulder checks into lockers, he saw those obnoxious red and white letterman jackets as the armor of those who were constantly trying to keep him down, keep him quiet, put him in his place.

Except when Finn wore it.

When Finn walked down the hallway in his letterman's jacket, it was like Superman had arrived.

But now, Superman was gone, and Kurt is alone.

Nursing his lukewarm non-fat mocha and sitting at what he always considered to be the McKinley table at The Lima Bean, Kurt doesn't just feel alone.

He feels abandoned.

Yeah, other people have left him. His mom was gone, he and Blaine broke up, and his best friends in the world were mostly scattered, living their own lives, but Finn was supposed to be a constant.

Finn was always supposed to be around. He was supposed to sit in the front row when Kurt and Rachel performed on Broadway. He was supposed to be the best man at Kurt's fabulous, star-studded wedding. He was supposed to be the uncle that never followed the rules, who taught the kids to skateboard and the proper way to throw a forward pass, to buy them a drum set for Christmas when Kurt specifically told him not to.

Finn should still be here.

Healthy, wonderful, kind, compassionate men aren't supposed to die in their twenties.

They're just not.

His cup of coffee is half full, but he can't seem to stand drinking it anymore. He never noticed how tasteless it was. Of course, Finn rarely joined them at The Lima Bean. Coffee wasn't his thing. But on the occasions that he did go with them, he ordered the hot chocolate. Kurt always had something to say about that, about how ludicrous it was to buy a four dollar hot chocolate when everyone knew it was a packet of Swiss Miss and some hot water.

What did it matter? Why couldn't he have kept his fucking mouth shut about it and let the poor guy drink his hot chocolate in peace?

Suddenly, The Lima Bean doesn't feel like the place he wants to be right now.

Kurt lifts the cup to his lips, torturing himself with one final sip since he doesn't see himself coming back here anytime soon, at the same moment that someone tries to snag the chair opposite him. He doesn't feel like saying anything until he notices the chair isn't leaving, and whoever the person is has just sat down.

Kurt opens his mouth to excuse himself, not in the mood to come up with something witty, but the intruder at the table beats him to the punch.

"So, is this a private pity party, or are you open to new members?"

It's like a bad sitcom device, the way Sebastian shows up at all the wrong times.

Kurt rolls his eyes, not even up to the task of spitting out a, "Fuck you, Sebastian Smythe," so he stands up, turning to leave.

"Hey," Sebastian says, standing up with him, reaching a hand out to stop him. "Hey, wait."

"Why?" Kurt asks, stopping with his arms crossed, not bothering to turn and look at Sebastian leaning across the table.

"Because I drove two hours all the way out here to talk to you, for one," Sebastian says, his irritating comment delivered in an uncharacteristically sympathetic tone of voice, which is the only reason Kurt is entertaining this at all – insane, morbid curiosity.

Besides, the only people he has to return to are grieving as much as he is, and he doesn't have any more of himself to give at the moment. He doesn't have enough strength to bear their burdens along with his own.

He doesn't have a kind word left.

"Look, I don't mean to be a jerk, but I don't have time for you today," Kurt says, about to continue on his way when Sebastian grabs hold of his shoulder. Kurt freezes mid-step. Sebastian has never touched Kurt before. Kurt's knee-jerk reaction is to shrug him off, but the hand on Kurt's shoulder isn't demanding - it's just there.

It's kind of comforting, in its own way. Kurt knows that Sebastian doesn't need a shoulder to cry on. He doesn't need someone to lean on right now. He doesn't need an ear to bend as to why his life is never going to be the same now that Finn is gone.

He drove all the way to Lima to talk to Kurt.

As much as Kurt doesn't want that to mean anything, it kind of does.

"I know that you're going through some stuff," Sebastian says, still standing awkwardly over the table, still with his hand on Kurt's shoulder. "And I thought…"

"Thought what?" Kurt asks quietly.

"I thought you might need a friend."

Kurt sighs.

"Are we friends?" he asks with a snippy edge. "Because I don't remember getting that memo. Last I heard, you and Blaine were friends, but you still kind of despised me…at least privately, and on principle, I assume."

Sebastian looks down at the table between them, his expression shifting – an attempt to hold back the words clinging to his tongue, but from the look on his face, Kurt can't tell if he's struggling not to tell Kurt off, or if there's something else he's keeping to himself.

"I was an asshole to you, and that wasn't right," Sebastian says, chewing on the inside of his cheek between sentences as if what he's admitting is hard – extremely hard – for him to say. "To be honest, I didn't hate you, exactly."

"Not exactly," Kurt scoffs, but with less venom than Sebastian deserves.

"I know I apologized for everything I did to you," he starts, and it strikes Kurt that he said to you and not to you guys, so he lets Sebastian continue uninterrupted, "and I know that apologizing probably can't make up for it all, but if you'd let me, I'd really like to start over. Maybe, you know, become friends or something."

It sounds honest – sincere even – but Kurt has to ask himself…

Do I need Sebastian Smythe as a friend?

He turns his head and looks at the boy…no, not boy – man – because maybe Sebastian still has a few more months of high school left, but he was by no means a boy anymore.

Neither was Kurt.

Nothing Sebastian could do could hurt Kurt now.

And Sebastian was right. He had apologized. He had tried to make amends with the New Directions, and he had organized the Warblers into raising money for the Born This Way Foundation.

Maybe he does deserve a second chance.

Something in Sebastian's green eyes seems to be begging Kurt to give him one, – almost emphatically so.

"Okay," Kurt breathes, retaking his seat as Sebastian takes his.

As soon as Sebastian's hand is gone from Kurt's shoulder, surprisingly, Kurt kind of misses it.

"So, how did you know about Finn?" Kurt asks, needing to control the conversation, but also a bit curious how this tidbit of information could be of any interest to Sebastian Smythe.

"Blaine," he says, sounding apologetic when he admits it. "He posted it on his Facebook wall."

"Yeah, right," Kurt says, that bitter edge creeping back into his voice. "I forgot you guys are Facebook friends."

"Yeah," Sebastian says, looking as if he regrets even mentioning it. "Look, I know I gave you guys all sorts of shit, but Finn seemed like a pretty cool guy. Honorable. The kind who would go the distance for his friends."

Kurt smiles softly, grateful to hear such an enormous compliment from such an unexpected source.

"Are you going to start singing, Smythe?" Kurt asks, twirling his cup around on the table. "Because I'm not too sure that I'm in the right mind space to handle that."

Sebastian tries not to smile, but Kurt can see it fighting at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm being serious," Sebastian says, with what Kurt has to admit is an adorable whine in his usually cynical tone.

"So am I."

Sebastian blows out a breath and shakes his head, looking off toward the door of the coffee shop at the people walking in, but the tiny smile has won its place on Sebastian's face, and Kurt catches it.

"Thank you," Kurt says, "for saying all of that. Finn was a really great guy, and if you could notice that, then maybe…"

"Maybe what?"

Kurt smiles, looking up at Sebastian with teasing eyes.

"Maybe there's hope for you yet."

Sebastian sits back in his chair and laughs – not the conniving, snide laugh that Kurt has heard so many times before, but a different laugh. A friendly laugh.

The laugh of a person who might have a human side after all.

"Are you rushing back to New York after this?" Sebastian asks. "Or are you sticking around a few days?"

"I'm sticking around," Kurt says. "I want to help my dad and my stepmom with some things, visit with the old gang, you know…that kind of stuff. Why do you ask?"

Sebastian looks at Kurt's coffee cup spinning between his fingers, his eyebrows drawn in the middle as he chooses his next sentence.

"I thought that maybe…you know…if you were going to hang around a couple of days, maybe we could go out for coffee."

Kurt raises a questioning eyebrow as Sebastian's eyes move off the coffee cup and onto Kurt's face. Kurt doesn't answer, and Sebastian doesn't repeat his offer. He drums his hands on the table and looks away, hiding the way his cheeks start to go pink. "Or, maybe not. So what are you going to do after you get back to New York? Still school, I'm thinking. I heard you're an intern or something. Too good to work for real money like the rest of us poor sots?"

"Right," Kurt says with a chuckle, "like Sebastian Smythe could ever be a poor sot." Sebastian rolls his eyes dramatically and Kurt laughs, wondering when talking to Sebastian became so easy. "Yeah, I'm going back to school and Vogue, and I work at a diner, by the way. For money."

"Ah," Sebastian says with a nod of approval. "Too bad I won't get to see you. I bet you look adorable in an apron."

"I do," Kurt says, not willing to let Sebastian get the upper hand, but laughing at the way he crinkles his nose at his comment. Where on earth had this Sebastian been hiding all this time? He's almost…nice. "Actually, I think I'm going to kind of start over. Try new things. Live life the way it should be lived, go out on a limb more. I feel like I've been playing it safe."

"Safe?" Sebastian asks, choking on the word. "Weren't you the one who went to New York with no apartment, no job prospects, no school, and just, you know, made it? If you ask me, I think you jumped out of the fucking tree and landed on your feet."

Kurt nods. He doesn't want to agree. It would sound too much like boasting. But no one has ever said it plain out to him like that before, and when he hears it for the first time, it does actually sound pretty impressive.

"Okay, so you're starting new things, being more Mr. Incredible than you obviously already are. Where were you thinking of starting?"

Kurt looks at Sebastian, at that smile on his face that reaches his eyes, the words Mr. Incredible ringing in his ears, and decides that starting over doesn't necessarily have to wait till he gets back to New York.

"I was thinking," Kurt says, biting his lower lip, calling himself crazy but liking the way it feels, "what are you doing for lunch tomorrow?"