"Okay, so, I understand that he's in your band and all, but why does he have to live with you?"

"He doesn't live with me," Kurt chuckles, spreading an extra packet of glaze on his cinnamon bun before tossing it into the microwave for another 30 seconds. "He comes over to practice a few nights a week."

"Yeah, well, every time I'm here, he's here."

"That's because you practically live here." The timer beeps and Kurt takes the warm, gooey pastry out of the oven. "But there's something you've overlooked."

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"He's not here now, is he?" Kurt offers the plate with the cinnamon bun on it to his cranky boyfriend, but before he lets go, he swipes his middle finger through the glaze, sticks it in his mouth, and sucks on it … long and hard.

Sebastian accepts the bun, slathered in sticky goodness, but with his eyes glued to his boyfriend's mouth, and grins. "No. I guess he's not."