Blaine had enough wherewithal to ask himself what kind of person has Tonight I’m Fucking You as a ringtone before looking at the screen. The caller there had him confused, so he answered “DTF5” with a cautious, “Good morning?”

”Fuck yes it is, I can still feel you inside me, Seb, Christ,” came a distinctly male voice from the other end.

Blaine sat up, not even caring that he wasn’t following his usual safe-gender-breathe routine and found himself staring at a gigantic mirror across the room.

Sebastian - Kurt’s Sebastian - is staring at him in the mirror.

He clears Sebastian’s throat, trying to come up with the best thing to say.

How do you say you’re welcome in asshole?

“Well,” he begins, putting as much confidence into it as possible, “My dick thanks you, too.”

Throaty laughter bubbles through the receiver and Blaine has a moment of disgust as he realizes how much of a jerk Sebastian really is to Kurt before the man on the other end continues.

“Call me again sometime when you’re not with your frigid bitch, okay? I know you keep saying the patience will be worth it to fuck that tight ass, but why would you want to when you can have this, right lover?”

Blaine feels his face heat up, his blood boiling at the outright grotesque description of Kurt and the obvious way Sebastian talks about him before pulling some crude remark out of his ass to serve to this douche on the phone.

“Well, I can’t stay with just one person for too long but that ass is definitely going to be mine, then you can have me again, sweetheart.”

More laughing on the line and then it goes dead, leaving Blaine reeling and angrier than he’s ever felt in his life.

What. The. Fuck.

He drops the phone between his bedclothes-covered legs and allows himself to look around. The room is decorated in deep reds and stark whites, accented by little flashes of black here and there. There are French doors leading out onto what looks like a terrace, and there are two side doors to his left - both are wide open, allowing Blaine to see what they hold. On the left, a master bathroom that appears to be done completely in charcoals. On the right, a walk-in closet. The floor is covered in a plush white carpet, and the ceilings stretch out above him, punctuated by skylights.

So…upper class, then.

He picks up the cell phone and relaxes back into the bed, acutely aware now of the multiple pillows behind him; the massive thread count of sheets that feel like a cushion of soft clouds.

Today would be what he would consider a perfect situation...if not for the body he is inhabiting.

He opens the cell phone, thankful for no security lock on one so fancy, and drags down the top of the screen for his notifications.

5 missed calls from Kurt Hummel.

8 Missed texts.

Blaine sighs and taps the screen to read the texts from Kurt.

From: Kurt Hummel 7:45pm
Hi Seb, are you still coming over tonight? Dad says it’s okay since it’s been awhile.

From: Kurt Hummel 8:15pm
Seb, I’m not really interested in waiting around all night if you’ve changed your mind, can you give me a call or a text?

From: Kurt Hummel 8:21pm
Sorry about that. I AM interested in seeing you, that’s all.

From: Kurt Hummel 8:47pm
So I guess you aren’t coming over, huh?

From: Kurt Hummel 9:52pm
It hurts me when you do this, so you know. I know you say it’s stupid and that adults do this all the time with separate lives and then living together and that one day we’ll do it, too, but...

From: Kurt Hummel 9:55
...it’s just nice to know that you find me important sometimes.

From: Kurt Hummel 10:47
Your parents must be in town, right?

From: Kurt Hummel 00:45
I love you, okay?

Blaine sat in Sebastian’s comfortable bed, refusing to cry. It isn’t him that is hurting - it is Kurt and now is the time for Blaine to make some decisions.

In this body he could do damage - major damage - to Kurt, to Sebastian, to their relationship (although, he surmised, probably not much more damage than Sebastian himself is already doing), and he needs to think long and hard about what exactly he is going to do with this opportunity.

He quickly smothers his brain of all the 18-year-old-with-hormones scenarios it feels the need to flood him with. Sebastian has already made it clear that sex is all he is interested in where Kurt is concerned.

The problem is he doesn’t want to be that guy today.

He doesn’t want to BE Sebastian.
Which pretty much shatters all of his carefully constructed rules. All the things that leave him with some sense of security and safety in the ever-changing landscape of his life.

And it’s all Kurt’s fault.

Kurt, with his stubborn sincerity cross-wired with his biting sarcasm; with blindingly beautiful eyes and skin that begged Blaine to run his fingertips over. With the obvious desire to help but none of the peers to let him in.

Blaine had watched as Santana, had almost broke as Puck. But today? He will shine as Sebastian and be, if only for one day, what Kurt needs.

***
Incoming text from: Seb
Hey, are you awake?

Kurt stared at the screen of his cell phone, moisturizer smeared on the left half of his face, left hand suspended in mid-air.

It’s been weeks since Sebastian texted him in the morning. Texted him anything other than asking for...

Kurt stops thinking and starts moving, wiping the lotion quickly over his cheek before wiping his hands on the warm washcloth beside him and picking up his phone.

To: Seb
Of course I am! You know this skin doesn’t look like this without work.

Kurt waits, bottom lip clamped between his teeth until his phone chimes again.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

From: Seb 7:06am
That explains why it’s so kissable.

Kurt feels himself blush all over. I mean, yeah, Seb is still thinking with his dick but...Kurt reread the text. It strikes him that it may be one of the nicest things Sebastian has ever said to him.

He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at that thought.

To: Seb
Hey stop flirting, it’s not fair. You never answered me last night. Don’t think I forget so easily.

It’s mere seconds before he gets a return chime.

From: Sebastian 7:09am
I’m so sorry, Kurt. I fell asleep. So much work with these new classes.

Kurt considers this, thinking of all the times that Sebastian has blamed classwork, parents, -hell, far-away relatives on his lapses in communication but wanting to believe that this time - THIS time, he really did fall asleep.

From: Sebastian 7:10am
Skip school with me today.

Kurt stares at his screen.

It is reckless. A move Sebastian would no doubt pull. One that Kurt knows he’s pulled before. Without Kurt.

It’s irresponsible.

It’s so un-Kurt-like that he begins to sweat just thinking about doing it but-

Another part of him, the romantic part, thinks about how nice it is to be wanted for the day like this. It is romantic and grand and-

To: Seb
Okay. I’ll be at your place in 45 minutes.

Kurt presses send before he can change his mind.

Blaine rushes to get his body out of bed, feeling grateful that he at least has pajama pants on before venturing out into the hallway.

The house is silent around Blaine, just the ticking of clocks keeping him company as he makes his way through quiet rooms, footsteps silent on the thick carpet. When he reaches the kitchen he encounters his first human - an elderly woman arranging flowers in a vase, dressed in an actual maid’s uniform.

Blaine didn’t know people actually still wore them.

“Excuse me?” he ventures, stepping toward the woman and hoping not to startle her.

He does not succeed.

The woman looks up at him, surprise painted across her face as she jumps, knocking the crystal off the countertop and onto the floor, shattering the silence as well as the vase in one go.

Blaine forces himself to stand still even as the glass hits his ankles, mindful of his bare feet.

“I am so sorry,” be begins, horrified at having caused such a disturbance and for frightening this poor woman. “I mean, I will help you pick all this up, I’m just barefoot and I can’t move yet but I WILL, I promise, oh my god, honestly I’m sorry and-”

The maid just stares at him, mouth agape , her hand over her heart for a moment before visibly shaking herself and tut--tutting toward what looks like a broom closet. She stops and turns toward Sebastian before opening it.

“Please, please, sir. Just stand still and I’ll take care of it. I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to do that and I can’t lose this job, sir, so-” She begins to babble, obviously scared that Sebastian is upset with her.

Blaine tries not to think about why she would jump to that conclusion so easily.

“No, listen, it’s fine, really! Just - I’ll help when I can more, okay?” Blaine tries to put as much sincerity into his voice as he can without sounding too helpful. Sebastian probably wouldn’t be helpful, right?

The maid stares at him again, her eyes flicking between himself and the closed broom closet as if she doesn’t know what to do with either.

“Just-” she begins, her voice calmer, her eyes landing on the doorknob and pulling, “Just stay where you are so I can get this cleaned up.”

Blaine watches as she pulls out a particularly clean looking broom and dustpan and sets to work, methodically covering every inch of the floor before letting Blaine move.

And it is a huge floor.

“Thank you,” he says quickly, “I’m sorry I didn’t help.”

The maid looks up from where she is closing the broom closet, obviously confused.

“But, Sir Sebastian, you, um...” she pauses, looking as though she wants to speak but can’t before straightening her back and proceeding. “You never help, sir.”

Blaine just looks at her and realizes his mistake. He is Blaine being Blaine, not Sebastian, and he needs to be more mindful of that.

“I-” he begins, wondering how to put this all back together. “I’m not feeling well. Have you seen my mom or dad?”

The maid takes him in, her eyes narrowing in speculation as he backs up against the counter, crossing his arms and waiting for an answer, trying to look nonchalant.

“Sir,” she begins, moving toward the refrigerator and talking out bread, eggs, bacon, and cheese. “Your parents won’t be back until next week. You must be ill if you don’t recall that. Or maybe it’s because you got in so late?”

Blaine looks at her, schooling his features into nothing but annoyance. Act the part, act the part.

“Yes, well, if they were here they’d know, right? And they’re not so - their loss.” With that, he walks over the fridge as though he owns the place (which, he reasons, he actually does) and pulls out a bottle of water before walking over to another door at the end of the long kitchen. There are keys there, all in a line, with names and places written above them. One of them, just an ‘S’ all by itself, has a set of keys hanging under it.

BMW keys.

Oh, I can handle this, Blaine thinks, before turning on his heel and heading upstairs again.

***

45 minutes later Blaine had done some research on Sebastian’s computer, showered, dressed, prepared for his plan and is waiting impatiently in the foyer of the grand house for Kurt to arrive. Anxiety curls in his stomach as he realizes that Kurt might not come.

Why would he come? I mean, Sebastian’s not the nicest boyfriend and Blaine doesn’t know how often they do something like this. He pulls himself from the bottom step of the grandiose staircase and tugs out his phone to text Kurt when the doorbell rings.

Sighing in relief, Blaine strides over to the door and throws it open, revealing a luminescent Kurt. He’s dressed to the nines, styled hair swept up to perfection, crimson vest hugging his ribs over a crisp white shirt with an intricate brooch criss-crossing over the lapels. His jeans are black and tight, leaving nothing to Blaine’s imagination. He’s staring at Blaine - Sebastian - in a coy little way that makes Blaine’s mouth run dry before he can speak to tell him how beautiful he looks. In fact, before he can even try, Kurt steps forward and he finds himself with a mouthful of Kurt, his silky tongue pushing into Sebastian’s mouth over and over, almost frantically, his long arms wrapped up around Sebastian’s neck, pulling it down for easier access.

Blaine moans into the kiss, inhaling the sweet scent of Kurt and letting himself get swept up in his greeting. He didn’t even consider this kind of hello when planning this day, and so far it’s working out just fine, thank you.

Until Kurt slips his hand down and begins to palm at Sebastian’s cock, ignoring the open door and the empty lawn behind them.

Then Blaine abruptly pulls back, not wanting this to even remotely be the focus of his day with Kurt. He wants to get this right.

“Oh, hey, wait,” he begins, and then looks up to see Kurt’s eyes. Confused, nervous, maybe even - frightened? Clearly he’s missed something and he needs to make this right. “Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?”

Kurt bites his lower lip and Blaine just wants to pull him close but he waits because everything that was morenowyes about Kurt a moment ago is screaming nostopwait.

“I thought-” Kurt begins, voice trembling a little, “I thought that you wanted to- and if you don’t want to do this then I mean, I guess I thought the only other thing is that you’re-” Blaine watches as Kurt pulls himself straighter, steeling his spine and making his face a mask of stone. “Sebastian. Are you breaking up with me? Because if you are I should’ve gone to school.”

Blaine almost clutches his chest, this hurts so much. Too much. The fact that the options in Kurt’s head for this day are have sex or get dumped? No. Just, no.

Blaine moves forward, tentative step after tentative step, until he’s back in Kurt’s space, albeit with Kurt hugging himself and looking about as ready for physical affection as a cactus, and tilts Kurt’s chin up.

“Hey,” he tries to capture Kurt’s eyes with his own, but Kurt is stubbornly looking away. “C’mon, look at me.” He waits for Kurt, not wanting to force him to do anything. It takes a few moments before Kurt sighs and looks into Sebastian’s eyes, his jaw still tense but his body acquiescing.

“It’s not like that, okay? Neither of those things is why I-” Blaine almost chokes on the words, his need for sincerity so great. “-just no, okay? We’re going to spend some time together, get to know each other again, alright?”

Kurt’s body sags against Sebastian’s, so close Blaine can feel the rapid beating of his heart, and he burrows his face into Sebastian’s neck, his lips leaving hot trails on Sebastian’s skin as he talks, making Blaine squirm.

“Oh my god, Seb,” Blaine freezes at the name, wishing, wishing...

“I’ve wanted to hear that for so long,” Kurt finishes, pushing his forehead into Sebastian’s clavicle and shredding Blaine’s heart a little bit in the process. Kurt needs this. Needs today. Blaine pulls back, determined.

“So let’s go!” Blaine says a little too brightly, and then reaches for Kurt’s hand, linking their fingers and pulling him through the open door and down the hallway toward the kitchen, hearing Kurt gasp as he tugs.

Nothing’s going to stop him from doing this. He’ll write “himself” a note if he needs to, but by god he’s doing this for Kurt.

He pulls Kurt along, laughter bubbling out of his throat, and leads them toward the garage entrance. He pauses beside the door and snaps up the keys under the large ‘S’ before pulling on the doorknob to revealing a small caravan of vehicles.

“Oh my god,” Kurt breathes beside him, “Is that a 1967 roadster?”

Blaine looks to where he’s staring at the classic car and shrugs. “I guess,” he answers, honestly unsure since cars have never been his thing. “Must be my dad’s...well, okay, so it IS my dad’s.” He covers the last part quickly with a cough, hoping Kurt is too engrossed in the beautiful vehicle to be paying attention to him anyway.

This was such a bad plan. Kurt has so many ways he could find out that Sebastian isn’t himself today and he’s going to be all alone with him for hours. This is bad, so bad-

“Seb?”

Blaine turns his head toward Kurt again, noticing that Kurt’s hand is on his shoulder, a tentative smile on his face.

How can he care when Kurt’s standing there, so willing to go along with him?

“Let’s go,” he says, and pulls Kurt toward the red convertible against the far wall.

***

Kurt’s watching Sebastian drive, sneaking furtive glances now and then as he sings along with the radio. He watches as the muscles in Sebastian’s throat move around a note, and the way he smiles from the bottom of his toes.

It would be adorable if it weren’t the most unsettling thing Kurt’s ever seen.

Because he’s never seen Seb like this. Ever.

Combine what he’s seeing with the fact that the top is up on the convertible and Kurt’s trying to hold on and see where this day takes him.

“So thanks for keeping the top up,” he ventures, honestly intrigued as to what Seb will say.

Seb glances at him and smiles even wider, if that’s at all possible.

“‘s okay. I knew you wanted to keep your hair and clothes neat. No big deal.”

Kurt studies him for a moment, wondering if he should lay some of his cards on the table before speaking again.

“Well,” he begins, licking his lips in nervousness, “I mean last time you yelled at me and told me not to be such a ‘prissy bitch’ so I just thought that this time wouldn’t be any different.”

Kurt waits for the reaction and gets it - the color draining from Seb’s face, his knuckles gripping the steering wheel until they’re white. Kurt watches as about five different emotions play over Sebastian’s face before he settles on a blank stare, which he turns on Kurt.

“Yes, well, like I said before. Starting over and all that shit.”

Kurt lifts an eyebrow and decides to stop pushing.

At least for now.

***

It takes about thirty minutes to get to the place Sebastian is taking them, and when he sees what it is, Kurt is more perplexed than ever.

“Kendrick Woods,” Kurt reads from the wooden sign with yellow lettering, “Johnny Appleseed Metro Park District. Welcome.” He turns his head to look at Sebastian, who has a tiny smile on his face. “So,” Kurt continues, a rueful look in his eye, “Are we spreading seeds today?”

Sebastian had pulled the car to a stop on the side of the road when Kurt started reading and thus is able to tilt his head back on the headrest and laugh, his eyes closed and wrinkled at the corners.

Kurt has never seen him look so beautiful.

Something in his chest aches at this realization. The realization that his boyfriend never acts this way. That he didn’t realize he was missing something because that something wasn’t there.

Santana’s words about deserving more echo bitterly in his ears before he returns his attention to Sebastian.

“So what are we doing here then, crazy person?” he intones drily, arching his eyebrow at Sebastian. He attempts to maintain his frustrated appearance, but all bets are off when Sebastian bursts into gales of laughter once more.

“Look in the back - behind your seat,” Seb manages to get out, giggling lazily and turning to look at Kurt like, well, like he is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Kurt feels himself color, heat tinging his cheeks as he cranes his neck to see behind him. Wedged between his seat and the back bench is a wicker basket, covered with a floral towel with some French bread peeking out of the top. Sitting behind it, directly on the thin back seat, is a red comforter. A large, red comforter...perfect for a picnic.

He turns back to Sebastian to see him staring intently, no longer laughing. In fact, he’s worrying his lower lip in a way that make Kurt’s blood burn, makes his fingers want to pull, take. His skin feels electric with want and this, this is something that honestly has never happened in their entire relationship, no matter how hard Sebastian has tried.

In this moment he knows for sure that this? Is not his boyfriend.

***

Kurt hasn’t said much since the picnic basket reveal. He had just smiled broadly at Sebastian and turned back toward the windshield, dropping his hand between the console as if in invitation.

Blaine had taken the gesture seriously, threading Sebastian’s long fingers between Kurt’s and marveling at the closeness of it. So different than just clasping hands - like earlier when he had pulled Kurt down the hall. This is holding hands with intent, holding to be close to another person in some small way. Blaine watches Kurt move out of the corner of his eye and Kurt slowly begins tracing each of his knuckles in turn, giving each one soft, steady attention before moving on to the next.

Blaine wants to cry.

It is both the most intimate and the most terrified he has ever felt about another person. This is what falling in love is he thinks, being terrified but loving every moment of it.

He both aches to hold Kurt, to talk to him and learn every nuance he has, and also to run from him because of the unfairness of it all. His existence is complicating an already complicated emotion.

He doesn’t dwell on it, though, because they’ve reached their destination - soft grasses with picnic tables next to a small pond, just as the map had implied. Blaine parks the car away from the road and they tumble out, being sure to keep a safe distance from the pond before spreading out the comforter. Blaine insists that Kurt sit and relax while he unpacks their lunch: small egg sandwiches on little finger rolls, a cheese plate with a variety of crackers, green grapes, sparkling cider, and freshly popped popcorn. There are even brownies for dessert.

“You threw this together in 45 minutes?” Kurt asks incredulously, eyeing the champagne flute his sparkling cider is residing in.

“I have a maid, who knew?” Blaine replies, chuckling to himself because he actually has a maid.

“Hmm,” Kurt intones, looking away.

“What is it?” Blaine asks, setting down his glass to retrieve an egg sandwich.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kurt replies, his hand waving in Blaine’s general direction. “I just thought you did it, that’s all.”

Blaine bites down hard on his tongue at that - he knows that this is, without a doubt, the best date Sebastian has ever taken Kurt on, and he isn’t about to spoil it arguing.

“Well, I’m not magic, sweetheart.” Blaine retorts, a tiny note of irritation in his voice.

Kurt levels a look at him and sighs. Blaine sighs back dramatically.

“Okay, FINE,” Kurt concedes, “You aren’t magic. I know. It would’ve been a lot to do in addition to showering and looking spectacular.”

Blaine beams at him and continues eating, taking in the changing colors of the trees around them and basking in the soft breeze rolling across the field. They continue in silence, each man lost in his own thoughts while eating.

When they are done, when even the brownies are gone, Blaine cleans up their meal and packs it all away, swiping the crumbs off the blanket and insisting upon carrying everything back to the car. Kurt watches him with interest, his eyes sliding in and out of focus as if lost in thought.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Blaine teases, standing over Kurt with Sebastian’s hands on his hips.

Kurt regards him for a moment and then yawns.

“I think I’m just tired,” he says, putting his hands primly in his lap and looking out at the pond.

“We can take a nap if you want?” Blaine asks, trying not to sound too excited at the prospect of sleeping with Kurt. “Here or-”

“Oh no, not here,” Kurt interrupts, shuddering all over. “I know it sounds romantic, napping in the cool breeze under the sun. But there are bugs, Sebastian, and sunburns...and the possible reality of waking up to homophobes poking us with sticks and threatening to call the police if we don’t stop canoodling in the park.”

Blaine laughs aloud in spite of himself, washing away the momentary disappointment of not sleeping outside on this glorious day.

“So...” He begins.

“I want to go back to your house,” Kurt says, voice hushed and reverent, eyes suddenly bright like blue fire.

“Yeah, okay,” is all Blaine can say because wow. Kurt’s eyes are drinking him up while he gathers the blanket and he’s crowding into Blaine’s personal space, nipping at his collar bone and grabbing at his hips.

“Hey, HEY, stop that!” he yells when Kurt gets him in a ticklish spot and before he knows it he’s drowning again, pulled down flush with Kurt’s lips as Kurt’s consuming him, owning him with his mouth, his tongue entering Sebastian’s over and over until Blaine’s drunk with it, moaning against Kurt’s lips and wishing for all the world that Kurt knew his name.

It’s that thought that draws him up short.

He pulls back, smiling tightly when he sees Kurt’s mouth chase after his own as he pulls away. He puts three fingers on Kurt’s still-wet lips.

“C’mon, you. I thought you were tired?”

“Thinly veiled excuse to get in your pants?” Kurt asks, all innocence and sweetness.

Blaine dimly realizes that he’s hard already, his body caught up in Kurt’s advances but-

“No way. You promised me a nap and that implies cuddling, which I am now owed, thank you very much,” he counters, turning bodily from Kurt and heading toward the car to open his door. He reaches it, pulling it open and turning his body back to Kurt, motioning for Kurt to move.

“Hello? After you!”

Kurt wipes the look of surprise off his face and settles back into his heels, crossing his arms and contemplating Sebastian. Blaine tries to look nonchalant, uninterested in the slightest as to whether or not Kurt comes with him or even studies him while in all actuality his palms have begun to sweat and his mind is racing.

After a full minute or even two, Kurt strides over to the car, swatting Sebastian’s ass with the fingertips of his left hand before climbing in.

Blaine’s about to close the door when he sticks his head back out to speak.

“Put the roof down.”