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useless-fanfictions · 1 year

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Stroked By Madonna | Kurtbastian AU

Pairing: Kurt Hummel/Sebastian Smythe Fandom: Glee Rating: explicit Tags: Cheerios AU, cheerleader!Kurt, explicit sexual content, dry humping 10,888 words | 1/1 chapters | completed Ao3 Link

Summary: The one where Sebastian and Quinn grew apart after he moved to Paris and now he's back in the 'States and wants to rekindle their friendship. Not much rekindling happens between those two because it felt like stepping back into each other's lives as if they'd only be gone a day. However, the boy in the Cheerio's uniform catches Sebastian's eye in a different way.

To say the Smythe’s and Fabray’s are friends would almost be putting it lightly.

Judy Fabray and Charlotte Smythe had been childhood best friends - with their maiden names, of course - and had grown up and gone off to college together, where they both met their husbands. Different years, but still as wild college girls nonetheless.

The girls had drifted apart due to two reasons: one, when Greg Smythe had gotten ownership of his father’s law firm and the pair had to move well over two hours away; and two, when Charlotte had gotten pregnant with her oldest son. Judy had been fighting infertility and really wanted to support her best friend’s growing family but it was just hard, especially with the move. Then when the new parents popped out another child - a girl this time - not long afterward, Judy felt the tight clutches of jealousy.

It wasn’t until four years after that when Judy had had her first daughter - Frannie - that she finally gave up on her old and gratuitous feelings towards the Smythe clan. Their friendship began to rekindle, which both of their husbands were happy about, for different reasons: Greg was glad to have his wife happy once again with her best friend, and Russel was glad that his wife had someone to keep her out of his hair.

The thing that really sealed the deal of their reawakened friendship was both women getting pregnant with their youngest children at the same damn time.

As in, Charlotte invited Judy out to lunch and brought the good news. To which Judy had responded with, “no, that’s what I wanted to tell you!” Both of them waving positive pregnancy tests like lunatics in a public setting.

They went through every stage of their pregnancies together, every appointment was double-booked, and they went to a doctor in Westerville because Charlotte’s obstetrician was nicer than Judy’s had been.

To say their children were destined to grow up as best friends was also putting it lightly.

Sebastian smiled as he recounted all of their families’ history while he drove to Lima. It was a bit of a drive, but it was worth it - if the excitement that tingled up his arms and legs the closer he got to the stupid public school told him anything. He was on his way to see Quinn again after three years- holy crap, has it really been that long?

Yes, yes it has.

He moved away to Paris when the two of them were thirteen years old because the opportunity had presented itself while his father had incorporated an international branch of his law firm that had a center in France. His maternal grandparents had been living in France full-time so he stayed a little longer than his parents had. Now he was back in the ‘States and one of the first people he got into contact with again after seeing his siblings was the one and only, Quinn Fabray.

They had set up a little dinner-friendship-date thing for this Friday afternoon/evening because he hadn’t been officially enrolled at Dalton yet and had the day off still. He was to pick her up after her cheerleading practice and tell her all about his time in Paris.

“Oh, Va te faire foutre !” Sebastian yells at the car in front of him that just cut him off in an attempt to pass him. “Is 85 on the fucking highway not fast enough for you, salaud ?!” He is barely aware of himself switching to French insults; they sound much more aggressive anyway, he decides. ( a/n: online translation: ‘go fuck yourself’ and ‘bastard’)

He presses the button to roll his window back up - yes he’d rolled it down to channel his road rage, sue him - and flips his blinker on to pull off of the highway at his rightful exit. Surprisingly enough, Sebastian was able to learn to drive while overseas and maintain his skill over here - the main difference being once he got his American license (which is one of the first things that he did upon arriving home for the new school year) he is able to drive by himself.

The freedom was astounding, to say the least.

It’s not long after that he is pulling into a near-empty parking lot at McKinley High at quarter to five o’clock. Once parked, he pulls his phone out to let Quinn know that he is here.

From Sebastian: Sweetcheeks, I’m here so don’t make me wait :p

Her response isn’t nearly as teasing as his.

From Quinn: Fucker, come out to the stadium. practice is still going

This makes him stop for a second because what? Who the hell did she think he was? Quinn was one of the very first people he’d come out to as gay-

(young, almost-teenaged them sitting on her bedroom floor while their moms were gossiping in the living room, and Quinn had been talking about the boy who was in the 8th grade that she liked and he carefully told her about the boy he liked, she was barely phased)

-and so why did she now think that he would want to watch a bunch of girls prance around in short skirts? Sure, he found it easy to get girls’ attention - it was mostly the height, he’s sure - but that doesn’t mean that he wants their attention.

As much as he’s bitching to himself, he does get out of his car and walk towards the school. He leaves his jacket because the sun beating down warms his skin instantly, leaving him in dark jeans, converse, and a simple t-shirt. He presses the lock button on his key fob once he’s a couple of steps away and turns towards the side of the school where he hears a loud whistle and a mixture of voices.

What is he supposed to do? Sit on the bleachers and just wait for her to finish? He rolls his eyes mentally and squints around the corner of the building and isn’t surprised to hear music and a section of the squad going through a routine. Just like he’d imagined, short skirts were popping to show off as much skin as possible, considering they’re all minors.

Sebastian sighs and walks himself over to the bleachers. He’s glad that he’s not wearing lighter pants because these public bleachers are bound to be filthy and if they get too dirty he’s making Fabray pay for them.

All thoughts of his distaste for his seating arrangement completely evaporate when he looks up at the same moment that she spots him. Her arm shoots up in an enthusiastic wave and he can’t help the smile that bursts from his lips and his hand comes up in a returning wave. God, he’s missed her. They both have grown up and even though he’s seen pictures of her over the years, it is nothing like seeing her in the adorable red and white uniform, and holy shit- when did she get boobs and an ass? He might be gay, but he isn’t blind to her attractiveness.

He shakes his head fondly at her when she stops bouncing to make a face at him, to which he instantly sticks his tongue out at her. She’s called away by her coach after that and she gathers with a handful of the others on her team.

It looks like they are wrapping up their practice and so Sebastian settles back into his seat and just looks around. There are a lot of red-and-white-adorned children on the field, some stretching, some running through bits of their routines, a lot are chatting amongst themselves, and others are just sitting on the ground.

Sebastian is sitting on the second row of the bleachers and about ten feet from the first small group of cheerleaders who are helping each other stretch. He is pleasantly surprised to find there is about an even amount of guys on the team than there are girls. One in particular, whose Sebastian’s eyes are drawn to the moment that he kicks his foot high up into the air, is hanging around a group of three others - two girls, another boy, and himself.

One of the others, a bigger, dark-skinned, and curly-haired girl, catches his foot mid-swing and shoots her arm straight up above his and her heads. He reacts and moves gracefully and ends up balanced on his one leg placed firmly onto the turf and his other leg pointed straight up to the sky so that he was bent at a 90-degree angle.

Sebastian gasps out loud; goddamn , he thinks, he is flexible.

It’s not just the pose - that he is still holding and not even shaking a bit - that makes Sebastian not want to look away, but it’s how effortlessly he’d not let his friend surprise him by the move and just twisted into position.

Part of Sebastian knows that he’s a cheerleader and he shouldn’t be that surprised at the athleticism, but another part of his can’t help but track the slight bow in his back and then the bulge of his crotch as he drops his leg back to a regular standing position - Sebastian feels his ears heat up from more than just the sun.

Then his eyes trail up to the boy’s face and fuck, he’s beautiful. And not just ‘hot guy’ beautiful, but pretty. His hair lays fluffy and limp across his forehead and his round cheeks pull up in a smile and his chest heaves with his laughter. He’s so different than anyone else that Sebastian has been attracted to - he usually goes for tall and muscular - but he can’t really pull his eyes away this time.

That is until the boy looks his way and forces Sebastian to duck his head down and his cheeks to redden embarrassingly. He shrinks down in his seat a little, barely even noticing the grit under his ass from the dirty fucking bleachers, and looks up again to resolutely find Quinn. He wonders if she is ready to go because it’s usually not Sebastian who is found staring open-mouthly at boys but the other way around.

Instead, he watches her march back out onto the field right as the coach is bringing the megaphone up to her mouth to bark out orders on how to start the next number.

He groans and rubs a hand down his face irritably.

Unaware of how much time has passed, Sebastian finally sighs in relief when he hears the coach dismiss the entire team. He stands up reflexively and dusts off his pants and steps down to the bleachers.

Sometime after Sebastian had arrived, an older man - possibly a father of one of the girls or something - had come in from the other side of the bleachers and sat down a respectable distance away. The two of them walk down the metal steps now, Sebastian follows him to the gate on the fence that opens up to the field itself.

He takes about ten steps on the turf before he hears her, “Sebby!!” is all the warning he gets before he suddenly has an armful of Quinn Fabray.

“Heyy!” he laughs loudly, squeezing her tightly. He takes a few deep breaths and she smells disgustingly like grass, sweat, and hard work, but underneath all of that, she still smells like Quinn. Which is a stupid thing to think because he hasn’t seen her in years, but God, she is amazing and he has missed her so much more than he’d realized until this moment.

“Fabray, get off your boy toy and get packed up!” A voice from behind her barks.

The two of them look up when a bunch of fellow cheerleaders laughs - including The Boy and his friends, Sebastian realizes much to his own chagrin - and his eyes flit to the sneering Latino girl who’d made the comment.

When he looks back at him , though, his face is twisted into a not-so-pleasant look, but Sebastian doesn’t focus much on it before Quinn is yelling again.

“Oh screw you, Lopez,” she says, stepping out of the embrace to face their crowd. She still had a matching stupid grin on her face and so he thinks that it’s all friendly here. She reaches back without looking to pat his chest and taunts, “You’re just jealous because none of your boys look this good!”

He doesn’t really stop touching her, his hand resting easily on her shoulder, and isn’t surprised at the ooo’s and aaa’s that they are rewarded with at that comment. He feels his cheeks heat up again when he looks around he notices more than one pair of eyes turned to look at him.

“Oh please,” Quinn waves them away, “we’re not together so just calm down.”

She finally walks away to go get her things and he is left to stand there awkwardly while he shoves his hands in his front pockets and rocks on his feet. One of the last pairs of eyes to leave him, Sebastian notices, is The Boy’s.

If he was more confident, he would have followed Quinn into the throng of people leaving and chatted with a couple of them, except that he really isn’t that confident being at this school. So he stands as off to the side as he can manage and scuffs his sneaker against the ground, hoping that Quinn doesn’t take too long.

“ Fendi jeans, what are you- obnoxiously rich or something?”

The high-pitched, silvery voice makes Sebastian’s head snap up. He meets iridescently blue eyes and raised eyebrows in a judgemental look. He’s standing alone in front of Sebastian and without his friends, but the taller boy can see the couple of them walking towards them - including the one who’d grabbed his foot earlier.

“I… uh,” he says elegantly. “No?”

A puff of laughter leaves his chest and he brings a hand to his hip, body cocked with sass and confidence and damn, ok. Sebastian has no idea what to say or do.

“Please,” the boy says, “ Fendi jeans go for like 500 dollars apiece, I’d recognize the brand anywhere.”

Sebastian dumbly looks down at his own pants and his tongue suddenly feels too big in his mouth. And what the fuck was happening to him? He was breaking boys’ hearts left in right before he came back to America (finding that he was growing into his looks quite nicely) so why could he barely speak in front of this one?

“I guess, I got them from like... My grandparents?” he needed to stop ending everything as a fucking question. He’s sure the boy isn’t attracted to bumbling idiots like he’s acting right now.

“Grandparents, huh? You a trust fund baby then?” His friends have caught up to him and one stands on either side of him, the other a girl no taller than he is with black hair and blue streaks and a round, Asian face.

He feels like they’re backing him into a corner, despite standing out in the open. Why were they so intimidating; get your game face on, Sebastian! he reprimands himself.

“I suppose if you're friends with Fabray, you’ve got some money,” the larger of the three friends says while she reaches up and pulls a strand of hair away from her forehead to tuck behind her ear.

He’s not exactly sure what that means. He doesn’t know them enough to judge their glances at one another. Were they talking shit about Quinn and the Fabray’s? Or were they somehow congratulating him? He’s more confused than offended at this point.

“Kurt, Mercedes, leave him alone,” Quinn thankfully comes to his rescue.

She comes up and grabs his arm, which he dutifully offers to her, and they turn to walk away. She has a half-full duffle bag thrown over her shoulder and a swish in her hips as they walk to the open gate that leads to the parking lot.

Sebastian is about to open his mouth and ask her how she’s doing and how she gets along with her fellow cheerleading mates when the same light-pitched voice calls out from behind them.

“You can’t bring such an eye candy to Cheerio practice and not introduce him, Fabray!”

A semi-nervous, semi-flattered laugh bubbles from Sebastian’s throat and he turns his head back around to look back at the three that they’d left.

Quinn laughs out loud and turns fully back around to address them, the pair stops walking as she cups her mouth and screams back, “Kurt, this is Sebastian!” She points at Sebastian and then back at Kurt before going back to cup her mouth again, “Sebastian, that is Kurt! There, you’re introduced, bye guys!”

She waves enthusiastically and the two of them head back to his car. Sebastian only glances back once to see that the boy- Kurt was still watching him walk away. Quickly, he ducks his head forward again, stumbles over nothing, and asks Quinn how she’s been to distract her into not teasing him about it. It works.

Two hours later and the pair of close friends are sitting down at Breadstix and reminiscing about their childhoods and catching up with one another while they enjoy their meal. After the Cheerio practice ended, Sebastian had driven Quinn to her house so that she could shower and change for their “date” while Sebastian chatted pleasantly with her mother.

“Make sure and tell your mom that I miss her, you guys should all come over for dinner sometime!” Judy had said excitedly, clapping Sebastian lightly on the back.

“Of course, I will,” he responds.

And when Quinn had come down the stairs from her bedroom, in a simple dinner dress with her hair blow-dried and curled, and a light face of makeup on, the two waiting for her were both awed by how beautiful she looked.

“Oh, you kids look so good together!” Judy had cried out when Sebastian offered his arm to her again in mock formality, having put his jacket back on to piece together his outfit nicely.

“Mom,” Quinn says warningly, knowing just what her mother had meant by the comment.

The two mothers may have fantasized about their son and daughter growing up together and marrying and bringing them kids so that they could be grandmothers to the same children.

Sebastian officially coming out wasn’t a shock to really anyone, but that didn’t stop any of their parents or older siblings from making their wishful comments of the two of them. And it’s not like Sebastian didn’t understand, they do look gorgeous together - and if he ever needed a surrogate then Quinn would be his first and only choice because people are right, they’d make some fine babies together.

Now out again with his best friend, the comment is nowhere near the front of his mind. He is focusing on the girl in front of him instead.

The girl who just swung her leg up to kick him square in the shin with her pointed, closed-toed heels and was saying his name accusingly, “Sebastian! You can’t say that in public.”

Sebastian laughs with her, “why not? It’s what happened.”

“Don’t tell me you forgot how sensitive us Americans are,” she throws her head up high and to the side. He nods and sees that her knack for the theatrical is still very much in tack.

“Please,” he rolls his eyes. “I’m just as American as you are, unfortunately. And anyway, the French are all proper -” he throws his head up like she did to mock her, “-it’s the Brits that are vulgar.”

“No,” she laughs a little louder than the environment would condone, “that’s just you. ”

He ignores her thrusting a finger in his face and smiles at her fondly. They carry on with the conversation for a little while and then lull into a natural silence as they finish up their meals.

“So, uh..” he reaches up and scratches at the back of his hair for a second. Then he drops his hand and fiddles with the sleeve of his jacket. “...what do you think of that Kurt kid?”

She stops and scrutinizes him for a second and he keeps his face as frozen as he can, squinting back at her.

A family with a small child has just been sat two tables down from them and the kid does not want the height chair at all. She is kicking and screaming her way out of it. Sebastian switches his gaze over to watch the child for a long moment or two, trying not to blush under Quinn’s silent judgment.

“I don’t know much about him other than he’s kind of a little prick,” she finally says.

If Sebastian had been taking a drink he’s sure that he would have spit it all over the place. “That’s abrupt,” he comments.

She merely shrugs and pushes around a couple of the leftover penne noodles from her pasta on her plate. “You’re not thinking about going after him are you?”

“Not really, no… I’m just curious about him is all,” Sebastian goes back to messing with his sleeves. “Wait, I thought you guys were friends anyway?”

She shrugs again but looks up at him this time. Her eyes have always been pretty. “The whole team are ‘friends’-” she brings her hands up to form air quotes with her fingers, “-but we all break off into our own groups and kind of secretly hate one another. I personally don’t have anything against Kurt, but he’s not exactly the friendliest either.

I do know that he and Santana-” at his raised eyebrow she explains further, “-the bitchy Latino, got into it a couple of months ago and now neither of them are talking to each other really. It really makes competition hard sometimes, especially because he’s a flyer and she’s really one of the only ones that can throw him up to do most of his stunts-”

Sebastian holds a hand up to stop her while simultaneously saying, “wait, he’s the one you throw up into the air?”

Quinn nods. “Yeah, one of them, he weighs like 90 pounds soaking wet,” she answers him smoothly before continuing with what she had been saying, “and Sue, our coach, has been trying to get them to work together again so that he can perform a double-flip-kick at our first competition next month. But then last week she dropped him and he claimed that it was on purpose and nobody really thinks we’re gonna be able to do that move again because they can barely stand to be near each other.”

So that was the harsh look from earlier, Sebastian thinks to himself. He’s glad it hadn’t been directed at him, though.

“So do you have any other, uh... Spinners? Float-?”

“Flyers,” she corrects him.

“ Flyers , do you have any more of them?” he asks.

Quinn takes a drink of her water before answering, “Yeah, we do. Just none as good as he is, unfortunately. Even I’m not to his level.”

Sebastian raises a hand to his mock-shockingly opened mouth and gasps loudly to put up an exaggerated act. He teases her about the comments, she insults him back, and then the conversation moves on. Despite the way they have drifted apart these past few years, they pick up like barely any time has passed.

And it isn’t until later that Sebastian really even thinks about Kurt at all again, once he’s back in his own room in Westerville and has nothing else to do other than think. He’d been able to recognize the brand of his jeans without really inspecting them and he’d had such an air to him that just screamed confidence. He wonders how much more to the boy there is.

Right before he’s about to turn over and shut the light off by his bed, his phone buzzes three times.

From Quinn:Hey, you should totally come to our pep rally next week.we’re doing Madonna songsAnd Kurt is going to be singing ;P

Sebastian eases into Dalton Academy without an issue at the start of the next week. The uniforms weren’t the most comfortable thing to wear, but not the worst thing he’s worn by any means.

His classes were a lot - his first-hour professor had piled on the homework and told him to track down another student’s notes so that he can finish the unit that they are in with the rest of the class, so he tracked down this kid named Wesley and borrows some of his notes - and the kids weren’t really inviting, but making friends isn’t something that Sebastian is bad at. Or dealing with preppy assholes.

So school was going okay for him and he catches up rather easily in his math and science classes, having learned from far more advanced instructors overseas, and so he does have Friday afternoon open for the McKinley High’s pep rally that was happening the last couple hours of the school day. With the drive as well, Sebastian will have to attend his early morning classes and then ditch the rest of them.

Is it the best way to give his teachers a good first impression of him? Absolutely not. Does he care? Not really.

He makes sure that it is okay with his parents that he does this, of course, and they aren’t thrilled about his missing school but they really enjoy the idea of him going to support Quinn so he sweet talks them into letting him go the night before.

From Sebastian: parents agreed to let me go, see you tomorrow!

He texts Quinn that after dinner with his parents once he’s raced up the stairs to his bedroom to finish up one of his assignments. Her response comes a little while later,

From Quinn:okiedokie ill let Kurt know, hahaha

He’d tried to tell her to shut up when she first teased him about it and she agreed that if he really wanted her to stop that she would, and he thought the issue was resolved. But then he thought it would be a great idea to ask about him again while they were on the phone the other night and she told him that she couldn’t not tease him now. So he suffers her teasing in exchange for more details on the boy.

From Sebastian:I will hurt you, Fabray

He grins playfully and tosses his phone onto his bed so that he can focus for the rest of the night. Having been buried in his bedding, he doesn’t hear his phone go off at all.

Once he’s showered, teeth are brushed, and skin moisturized, he crawls into bed and sees that he has two more texts from Quinn and a third from an unknown number. Quinn’s texts were threats that were much more explicit than his were and he responded with a winky face and the word promise?

Joking with his best friend was nothing, but the new text made his heart leap into his throat.

From Unknown:Got your number from Q, she said that I should look for you at the rally tomorrow.

Sebastian read and reread the text about six times before the words really sunk in because holy shit- had Kurt sought out Quinn for his number? Or did it come up in casual conversation? Why had he taken his number at all? All he could think about was Kurt’s comment from the day that they met: Kurt had called him eye candy .

But then a small voice crept into the back of his mind as he was drafting a response to the mystery number and it reminded him what Quinn had said about not really knowing or talking to Kurt a bunch, so why would she give out his number?

He quickly deletes the unsent text and pulls up his and Quinn’s conversation.

From Sebastian:Who did you give my number out to and why are they texting me?

Of course, it’s too late in the night because his assignment had taken a lot longer to complete than he thought it would, so he knows he won’t be getting an answer tonight. He settles for just not responding for now until he gets an answer first and he can claim that he hadn’t checked his phone for the rest of the night if the person asks.

He tries not to think about Kurt for the rest of the night while he drifts off to sleep.

Sebastian tries not to bounce his leg while he drives because of the one time he’d accidentally tapped off of cruise control and almost caused an accident on the freeway, but he almost can’t help it now so he forces his left leg to bounce and can use his right to drive. It’s a nervous tick of his and the closer he gets to Lima, the faster his leg shakes.

The pep rally starts promptly at 2 and it was now ten minutes after 1 o’clock and he had about twenty minutes until he was pulling up to the school. He was meeting Quinn a little bit before for some pre-performance snacks and company. He had no idea who “company” was but he tried not to think about it, hence the leg shake.

He hadn’t gotten a very productive response from her this morning about the text from the night before. Their text conversation was short but simple.

From Quinn:idk i had a couple of people ask for your number, it’s probably brittanyShe’s a little nosy sometimes but harmless

From Sebastian:you did tell them all that I’m not interested in girls right?

From Quinn:no, seb, i sent an army of girls your way with high expectations just so i can watch them all get disappointed

From Sebastian:veryyy funny

From Quinn:I try to be. i gotta go, morning practice

From Sebastian:but wait, did you give my number to kurt?fabray answer me quinn!I hate you

Obviously, he doesn’t really hate her, but he had been off-center all morning because he kind of wants to respond to the text message but he definitely doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. So instead, he continues to ignore it and hopes that whoever sent it won’t be too upset with him.

He stops at a dollar store in Lima on the way to the school to pick up a few snacks - ones on the healthier side like trail mix, crackers, and gatorade for Quinn and gets himself a box of candy because today has been stressful already - and then drives over to the same but much-more-packed parking lot that he’d gone to last time.

He finds a parking spot and texts Quinn to let her know that he’s here. She tells him to walk around the West side of the building and meet her at an outside door to the gymnasium. He grabs his bag of snacks and does as he’s told, making sure to lock his car up. He is wearing a different jacket today - having stopped at home to deposit his Dalton blazer - and it was a little colder today so he kept it on.

Once around the side of the building, he sees a door being propped open by a couple of students leaning against it. They are cheerleaders, a boy and girl, and Sebastian realizes that once he gets closer that the girl is the small Asian one that had stood on the other side of Kurt last week, but the guy she was talking to was tall and also Asian and someone he, thankfully, didn’t recognize.

“Quinn’s just inside if you want to go in?” the boy nods towards the open door when Sebastian gets close enough, he hadn’t even needed to say anything.

“Ok, thanks,” he nods to them and steps in through the door.

It leads to the gymnasium where there is a fraction of the student body already on the in-door bleachers despite the pep rally still being a good 30 minutes away. Mostly it was parents and grandparents that were here way early. He sees Quinn sitting next to some other girls on the lowest bench seat next to the wall.

Once she spots him she shoots up and skips over to him, her freshly pressed performance uniform hugging her frame perfectly. Sometimes he was jealous that she wasn’t all skinny torso and gangly limbs like he was, but ultimately he is proud that she has kept this nice figure since struggling with self-confidence in elementary and middle school.

“Hey, you,” she says when she’s closer.

“Hey, yourself,” he echos and wraps her into a hug.

He shows her the snacks he brought and she snatches them up quickly, including his box of candy, and leads him over to the spot she’d been sitting with her friends before.

“I know I did a poor job introducing him last time, but we hadn’t seen each other in like three years so you can’t hold it against me. But this is one of my closest friends, Sebastian Smythe,” Quinn says to the two sitting on the bench.

They both raise a hand to wave at him and he recognizes one of them as Santana, the ‘bitchy Latino’ according to Quinn, and he guesses that they’re closer friends than she made it sound last week.

“Seb, this is Santana and Brittany,” she finishes as she turns to sit down.

Santana looks him up and down once and then turns to peer inside the bag that Quinn had taken from him. Sebastian just nods to them both and stands there, shifting on his feet.

“So, twink,” Santana starts through a mouthful of his candies, “heard you were in Paris for the last couple of years. Anything worth noting over there?”

Sebastian regarded her silently for a second before leveling her with a smirk and ignoring her irritating insults, “What and spoil everything for you? No thanks. You’ll get there… eventually.” He didn’t have to like her, but he did have to tolerate her for Quinn’s sake.

“Calm down there, children,” Quinn says absentmindedly, focusing on opening the box of crackers. Brittany just laughs and watches everything unfold.

After a beat of neither of them speaking, Sebastian relaxes when he watches Santana’s sneer turn into a grin.

“You’re not that bad, actually,” she caves and sends him a solid nod which he returns with a barely repressed grin. Okay, so maybe he wants Quinn’s friends to like him.

“Why don’t you have an accent?” Brittany asks, “and how do you know English?”

Sebastian opens his mouth to answer but is interrupted by the static pop of the speakers throughout the speaker system in the gym that makes all four of them flinch. He turns around to investigate when he sees two more Cheerios in their uniforms with headset microphones on; it’s Kurt and Mercedes.

“God, ‘fucking ‘course it was him,” Sebastian doesn’t have to be facing her to hear the eye roll in her voice.

“Testing, testing!” echoes throughout the gym. It’s Mercedes who is walking towards the middle of the gym’s floor, Kurt is still standing by the tech panel and talking to one of the tech guys while holding his microphone away from his face.

Sebastian watches as he says a couple more things, laughs - wait, his smile is strangely adorable actually - and then slides the equipment onto his head and speaks into the mic as well, voice echoing throughout the room.

“Jesus,” Santana’s voice brings Sebastian back to the conversation he was having prior to the interruption. “Even his fucking voice is annoying, dramatic ass bitch.”

Sebastian raises his eyebrows in surprise and catches Quinn’s eyes, who was munching on a cracker. Told you so, she mouths to him.

He wanted to ask Santana why she disliked him so much but thought against it. This girl seemed to get angered easily and he didn’t really want to be the focus of such emotion. So he stays quiet and reaches for a couple of crackers just to give himself something to do.

They stay and chat for a little while longer before the Cheerios’ coach comes out to collect everyone. Quinn directs him to a section of the in-door bleachers to sit that will put him in the perfect viewing position and he gives her a hug and part on the back for good luck. She smacks him on his ass and waves as she walks away. As Sebastian sits back down, he catches a disapproving look from an elderly woman who wasn’t sitting that far away from him.

Pretty soon, more and more students began to wander inside and the stands started to fill up quickly. He got shoved up closer to the grandmother and he did his best to ignore her.

Eventually, it got a little too warm for him to keep his jacket on comfortably, so he takes it off and puts it on the bench next to him.

The school’s principal walks out onto the center of the floor with a microphone and addresses the school in a thickly accented, monotonous voice, “quiet, quiet children. I don’t have any announcements to make, so without further ado, here are your school’s pep band and Cheerios.”

While he was talking, the pep band in full uniform had walked out onto the gym’s floor to stand around him. They all wore identical jackets and tall hats with extravagant feathers on top and carried their instruments.

Now with the gym silent in anticipation, there was a pregnant pause before the cheer coach raised her megaphone up to her lips, “five, six, seven, eight!”

By the end of her countdown, the band had their instruments poised and ready to play. The opening notes of Madonna's “4 Minutes to Save the World” plays loudly and clearly. Sebastian knows the song because it’s one of his mother’s favorites and he nods along.

When the beat of the drums come in, the band swings their instruments about and moves perfectly synchronized. Sebastian was glad that Quinn had sat him here because he was up high enough without being too far away and but back far enough to get a nice semi-aerial view. His eyes followed the movement of the band.

That is until the line of Cheerios came out from either side of the opposite-facing bleachers. They were kicking their legs up with each step, perfectly in line with each other and the song. Sebastian watched them only for a second before his eyes flitted back to the band marching about. He couldn’t see Quinn yet so he watched most of the moving parts; there was just so much happening.

And then the vocals came in and Sebastian held his breath in anticipation.

“Hey! Unh, come on,” Mercedes rounded the center aisle that the band made, voice singing out loudly. Right as she came fully into view, Sebastian’s eyes were instantly attracted to the boy next to her. The moment her voice stopped, his began.

“Come on, girl, I’ve been waiting for somebody to pick up my stroll!”

Sebastian felt his heart leap into his throat again as his eyes and ears focused in on the absolute force of nature; anyone could see that Kurt was entirely in his element and fuck, did he look good doing it.

Then he dropped down into a squat with a pronounced grunt before popping back up to slide into the next dance move.

And Sebastian knew that it was part of the song, having heard it around the house before, but god damn did that noise resonate within him. He started to think of other reasons Kurt would be making noises like that and no, no, no, he needs to shut that train down right now.

While he was having his mini-mental breakdown, he looked away from Kurt while Mercedes sang and found Quinn in the throng of female Cheerios who were moving well with the beat. He did take a moment to appreciate the hard work that would’ve had to have been put into a number like this because they all moved fluidly together. And then all of them, the dancers, the band, and the singers, swung their hips back and forth in a well-practiced move and Sebastian was right back to watching Kurt.

“I want somebody to speed it up for me, then take it down slow.”

It’s the way he put enough emphasis on the first word for it to come out almost growl-like that has Sebastian spreading his knees a little reflexively while he feels some heat rush down south. Fuck, can’t get hard here, goddammit, he thinks hopelessly while watching the group perform a small patch of choreography that Kurt was in the middle of doing while he sang, which only contributed to the breathy air in the tail end of his next line.

And when he dances his way up to the front of the crowd, past the dancing female Cheerios, Sebastian really does hold his breath then, getting a glorious look at his slim hips as they jive and rotate in time with the music.

Then he is thinking about the song and if it had a slower, more sensual beat, how differently would Kurt be moving? He feels his cock twitch in his pants. In a moment of blind panic, he reaches down to where he had set his previously-discarded jacket on the bench next to him but hesitates because no, he wasn’t getting hard to the point that it was noticeable yet and maybe it would go away.

When he looks up at the performance he’s met with Kurt’s fierily staring right back at him.

While swallowing the little bit of moisture that he has left in his mouth, Sebastian clutches his jacket tightly in an effort to bring back his steely control, but his eyes won’t look away from Kurt’s glance.

Something in Sebastian’s chest is warming up and maybe it’s lower than that because he’s pretty sure it’s arousal but fuck if he can stop the fluttering of his heart and the tingling in his legs because holy shit look at this boy on the floor with a voice that melts and dance moves that rival that of an exotic dancer.

Get yourself together, Smythe, he mentally cautions but doesn’t really focus on, he’s too busy watching Kurt.

Then someone behind him stands up too abruptly and a sweatshirt sleeve or book bag strap hits him in the back of his head and he startles and looks away for just a second of clarity; the rush of the crowd and people around him come back into his focus and he looks down and shit he is explicitly hard right here, in a crowd of people. So he does pull his jacket into his lap and resolutely does not look at the elderly woman he is sitting next to.

He looks up in time to watch both Kurt and Mercedes hold each other’s eye contact while they straighten up from a crouched position, both belting out their words. Sebastian is really zeroing in on how those ridiculously bright red - he’s glad Dalton is more subdued - pants hug the rounds of his ass perfectly.

(fuck)

Oh god, then the next set of moves rely heavily on the dancers’ hips rotating and Sebastian would give anything to be on his knees in front of Kurt right about now.

But then he catches a glimpse of Quinn as the entire group shifts and she quirks an eyebrow at him, which means his arousal is probably all over his face. He slaps his palms to his cheeks and runs his hands up and backward, ruffling his hair wildly, he knows.

On top of the embarrassment that is staining his cheeks pink, his body is running hot with how turned on he is and how much he would rather be putting pressure on his crotch to get some- any - friction there to ease the pressure. But goddamn is he not going to jerk himself off in a crowded, school-sanctioned event. That isn’t even his school for fuck’s sake!

He’s here to support Quinn. He needs to find her.

“Time is waiting!”

His voice is getting more and more breathless the longer the dance goes on and fuck does Sebastian wanna hear more of him gasping into the microphone.

(Quinn. Quinn. Quinn. Quinn-)

“No hesitating!”

Oh, Christ, he bends down low and grinds his back in Mercedes’s. As he pushes himself back up - both of them pushing into one enough back-to-back - his hips pump forward with the beat. He is positively humping the air in front of him-

Sebastian whimpers, fucking whimpers when his gaze trail back up the dancer’s body to meet his eyes again. He’s not singing right now but his mouth is open because he’s panting -

(fuck, fuck, fuck)

Son of a bitch, he thinks and presses down on the jacket in his lap and his hips automatically jerk forward.

Kurt looks away to stare back at Mercedes while they continue to sing. As much as he is taunting (or whatever the fuck he’s doing to) Sebastian, he is also so focused on this number and the ease within him to just perform.

Which, of course, only makes it so much harder (pun not fucking intended) for Sebastian to think of anything except his arousal that is still climbing.

The entire room is buzzing, most people are out of their seats and jumping around, and with the music, the singing, and the screaming and cheering, he’s sure any noise or movement he makes will be lost in the throng of people.

So he shakes his legs a little to spread the jacket out thinner onto his lap and presses his hand harder into his crotch and tries not to scrunch his face too much when the pleasure hits ohsogoodyes .

“Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock!”

Kurt and Mercedes are finishing up their final notes, circling each other while the female Cheerios behind them thrust and dance hard enough to make their skirts swish and they show more skin in ways that would be attractive to anyone but Sebastian because he only has eyes for Kurt.

Then he’s turning away from her, mouth opened and panting, chest heaving, as the band finally lets their instruments rest and the music stops. All of the dancers take a collective breath and hold their position for a few more baited seconds while the crowd eats up their performance with even louder cheers and whistling.

Sebastian blinks and finds Quinn, stopped not that far behind Kurt and she, thankfully, isn’t looking at him. He lifts his hand away from his lap and rubs the bottom of his palms into his eyes. God, how had he gotten so turned on so quickly?

Then Kurt’s face turns towards him and his expression of awe quickly morphs into something darker. With hooded eyes and a smirky twitch to his mouth, Kurt tilts his head to the side a little bit and his eyes slide a little south to where Sebastian is about ninety percent sure where his crotch is in Kurt’s sights.

It makes him want to put his hand back, to show Kurt exactly what he did.

(you’re in a public place)

But Kurt’s eyes, the filthier part of his mind screams back. The bedroom eyes that are being cast his way make Sebastian want to hit the floor on his knees and worship every part of Kurt that the boy will let him- and damn, don’t those images look good? That confident look on Kurt’s face twisted to seem absolutely possessive as Sebastian looks up at him from the ground.

Then the coach is walking onto the floor and the dancers are starting to peel away from their position and the crowd is melting back into their seats. Sebastian really hopes that another performance isn’t about to start because he isn’t sure if he’d be able to withstand another onslaught of emotions like that. But he watches Kurt and Mercedes walk out of the gym, using one of the side doors that he came in through actually, and his head clears a little to focus on what the coach was saying.

Turns out there is more to the pep rally - having gone to all private schools, he didn’t really know what to expect, to be fair - and there were other performances but none that featured Kurt. As grateful as he is for that little detail, he does want to see more of the cheerleaders.

Then there is a small break while the football team is introduced, one at a time, each making some weird, smart ass gesture or act to try to get their friends to laugh. By the time it is over and the remaining Cheerios - which included Quinn - had finished a smaller routine without music to wrap up the football team’s introduction, Sebastian was back to a respectable flaccid state, even if his underwear stuck a little uncomfortably to his skin in some places.

Just in time, it seems, because Quinn is marching up the bleacher and plopping down next to him with a barked, “move!” to the kids on his left.

“So,” she leans over and says, “what did you think? Was it enough for your private school ass?”

Sebastian laughs at the joke and brings a hand (not the one he’d been using earlier even though they’re both just as clean) to her back, ignoring how warm and kind of damp with sweat she is. He pulls her into his side in a little one-armed hug before answering, “yeah, I did actually. There was so much… energy.”

Yeah, sexual energy, his brain supplies unhelpfully.

Quinn has to leave for the final Cheerio’s number, which does have Kurt in it but only as a backup dancer-

(which doesn’t stop you from watching him)

-with some of the other male cheerleaders that he’d seen on the field last week. He tells Quinn good luck and she smiles and waves at him once she’s on the gym’s floor and marches over to her teammates.

For a split second, Sebastian is terrified when Quinn walks over and places an arm on Kurt’s shoulder. She leans in and says something real quick that he smiles at and then she is walking over to her friends - Santana and Brittany. He does a damn good job of convincing himself that it was merely to congratulate him on his performance earlier because the interaction had been so quick. Honestly, if he hadn’t been watching out for the two of them, he would have missed it because it was so brief.

It was a good excuse, he even almost believes it.

After the last of the pep rally is over, the gym starts to clear out and get less stuffy. He catches sight of Quinn standing by a hallway that leads to what he assumes are the locker rooms. There’s one on either side of the opposite bleacher set, where the cheerleaders had danced their way from at the beginning of the Madonna number. She is waving at him to come to her, so he stands and follows the remaining students off of the bleachers.

He heads across the gym and through a thinned crowd to where she is. She walks further into the hallway and disappears behind one of the doors and he hopes that it’s not a girls’ locker room because even though he’s gay, doesn’t mean he’s comfortable around naked or close-to-naked girls. He still doesn’t hesitate to follow her, though.

Until he sees Kurt leaning against the wall of the hallway, previously covered by a little bit of the bleachers that stuck out. He stumbles over his next step and Kurt looks up and meets his gaze.

To avoid any awkwardness from his staring, he mumbles through, “Kurt! I-uh, liked your perform- you were great out there, actually.”

His stare is back to that icy seriousness that met Sebastian last week when they’d been talking about his jeans. One manicured eyebrow raises, but that is the only movement in the boy’s face for a few more pressured moments.

(weren’t you following Quinn?)

“So what,” Kurt’s voice distracts him, eerily calm and bordering on judgemental again, “you can talk to me in person but not answer my text?”

Fuck, Sebastian thinks. It had been Kurt that texted him and he really did ignore the guy. Dammit, he wonders if it left any sort of lasting impression of him. His voice is quiet but there is a hint of persistent hysteria because he wants Kurt to know that he didn’t mean anything by it, “Well, I didn’t know who it was!”

“Okay, fine,” Kurt amends the moment Sebastian’s done talking. His voice is still monotonous but his head is tilted down and he looks up at Sebastian through his lashes, “but now you’re going to act all innocent after eye-fucking me during my entire performance?”

Hearing him swear shoots a thrill down Sebastian’s spine and after sitting through such a wired performance earlier, he’s sure that it would take nothing to bring all of that residual arousal right back to the surface of his skin.

He beats it down as quickly as he can, even if his eyes widen at the statement, “ I was eye-fucking you? No way.”

“Mmhmm,” and then Kurt pushes himself off the wall with a languid body roll and he steps closer to Sebastian, backing him into the hard surface of the wall behind him. “The jacket wasn’t as inconspicuous of a cover as you thought it was, by the way…”

Sebastian gulps back the flood of saliva in his mouth and opens his mouth to speak but ends up only gasping a breath when Kurt’s arms come up to his and push him firmly in the unrelenting surface behind him by his biceps. His eyes reflexively look around them at the completely empty hallway - which didn’t make all that much sense because they were standing near the opening of the hallway and wasn’t this place just packed?

But then Kurt squeezes his arms in a surprisingly strong grip and Sebastian is trying to string together a coherent response, “What was I supposed to do- let the grandma next to me see how hard I was?” He gasps louder when Kurt leans up and places a kiss on the exposed skin of the bottom of his neck, right above his collarbone. Fuck his neck for being so goddamn sensitive.

His chest is heaving now but he keeps talking because Kurt’s not saying anything and shit, just anyone can see them and Sebastian is fucking pinned but he loves it so much at the same time. “You’re lucky you were too focused on the song to get hard.”

He knows it’s a tad arrogant to just assume that Kurt would be turned on by Sebastian, but dammit he wants the focus off of him for a moment.

Kurt leans up onto his toes and his breath ghosts over Sebastian’s ear, “I wasn’t too focused, my pants just hide things better.”

And then they’re kissing. And oh yeah, he can definitely feel just how much they hide right now pressed against his thigh when Kurt rocks forward, fuck. Their mouths slot together so well.

“Kurt!” Sebastian whispers frantically. As much as he wants to shut his mind off and kiss the boy in front of him, he can’t stop thinking of their surroundings. This isn’t his school and just how trashy would it be if they were to get caught?

“Do you want to kiss me?” Kurt askes hurriedly, also whispering. He pulls back enough to talk but not enough for them to not be sharing air.

“Yes,” Sebastian answers honestly.

“Good.”

Kurt pulls away, to which Sebastian slams his head back into the wall, and his hips jerk forward. When he peels his eyes open (when did he close them?) Kurt is smirking at him and he has half the mind to surge forward and kiss that look right off his face. He hates how boastful he is right now. But there’s also something so sweet about being on the edge of desperate for him right now.

“In here,” Kurt nods to the door that sat two steps to Sebastian’s right. Kurt goes first and doesn’t look for a light switch, in fact, once Sebastian is past the threshold he is being pinned against the door while it slams shut.

A groan is ripped from his throat as his arousal spikes, who would have thought that he’d have a little manhandling kink.

“Shh,” Kurt murmurs, mouthing at his neck again. “You still can’t be loud.”

The way he says it implies that he’s perfectly capable of staying quiet himself, Sebastian deems to eradicate his poised posture as quickly as he can.

Sebastian grips onto his bony hips and pulls them flushed and nuzzles over his cheek until their mouths are lined up again. Then he puts his skill and heart into rocking his world. Which actually just means pressing their lips together over and over (and over and over) again for a series of pecks that bleed into longer kisses until Sebastian is suckling onto Kurt’s bottom lip as the boy opens wider under the force of his gasp.

Kurt is a surprisingly good kisser and gives back as much as he gets. Sebastian’s fingers twitch to press harder into the shorter boy’s body, but he doesn’t want to go too crazy right now.

“Sebastian ,” he moans, rolling his hips forward and the taller of the two considers it a victory.

The two boys kiss in the dark room a while until their lips ache with the force and their erections go just on the side of too painful to bear any longer. Kurt’s breaths are hiccuping pants in his ear where he’d just ended after kissing up Sebastian’s neck, and Sebastian has one hand gripping Kurt’s arm and the other wraps possessively around his waist.

Fuck, the kid really does weigh nothing and doesn’t have much meat on his bones. How he hadn’t noticed in all of his leering, he’s not sure, but it would take next to nothing to pull him up and support him in just his arms alone, not needing a wall or something equally sturdy to support his weight. Just as Sebastian is contemplating moving into that position, Kurt speaks up.

“We should…” Kurt starts but trails off in favor of burying his face in Sebastian’s neck again.

‘We should’ what? Continue? Stop? Take our pants off? Sebastian’s hand that is resting just above the smaller boy’s ass starts playing with the hem of his uniform’s top. He’s not sure how long they’ve been in this dark room - which Sebastian had quickly realized was a storage closet based on the smell of dusty, stale rubber - but he’s sure that he doesn’t want to leave anytime soon.

“‘We should’ what?” he eventually voices out loud.

Kurt sighs, not entirely a pleased noise, and pulls back a little bit to get a breath of air that isn’t saturated by the other boy. They’re not too far away, in fact, their lower halves are still very much pressed together and Sebastian can feel the little aborted rolls of his hips with every breath either one of them takes.

Pleasure still zings up his spine, but his head is starting to clear now that they have taken a break from kissing.

“Kurt?”

There is a soft, almost chastise, kiss pressed to his lips, and Sebastian’s heart flutters. He’s never kissed a boy so sweetly before, it’s nice and he would like to keep doing it but he knows that their persistent erections - Kurt’s still pressed so intimately to his - won’t let things stay too innocent for much longer.

(has it really been innocent though?)

Kurt’s hands slide up from his stomach to his chest and resting with his fingers bedded into his hair. He leans up and kisses each one of his cheeks while he’s sure they are both getting some pretty glorious friction. And then he whispers, “I need to go, but this has been fun…”

He’s got one of his hands trailing down the front of Sebastian while his other hand grips the doorknob with enough strength to pull the door open while Sebastian’s weight stays heavily supported by it.

Right as Kurt is about to step into the light that comes streaming in the more that the door opens despite the weight against it, his hand that was making its slow crawl down his body dances over the front of his once-again tented jeans.

He moans and bucks forward, also in the motion of stepping forward to let Kurt out, and his fingers reach out to grasp the other boy’s wrist.

The limb slips through his hand, but Kurt turns at the last second before he is fully standing out in the hallway and looks at Sebastian who is now standing in a little bit of the light pouring into the once pitch-black room.

“You should text me back, maybe this can continue?”

The way that his eyes drag down Sebastian’s body is enough to make the Dalton student want to pull his phone out right now, but he figures that might make him seem a little too enthusiastic.

So instead he says, “I just might.”

Kurt quirks an eyebrow at him before closing the door and bathing Sebastian in darkness once again. He stands there for a long time, willing his erection to go down before he can be seen by virtually anyone ever again.

“So how was it?”

Sebastian turns over to level Quinn with a glare from the driver’s seat of his car. He hasn’t put the vehicle into the proper gear yet so he has the liberty to let off the brake and moving his hand away from the gear shift entirely.

“You fucker, you lied to me,” he tries to sound stiff but his face breaks out into a grin.

“You’re damn straight I did,” she says, picking at her nails to hide the fact that she’s also got a shit-eating grin. “I’m a good wingman. And you and Kurt are cuties.”

He just straightens in his seat and throws his head back and laughs. Now that he thinks about it, it is pretty stupid of him to think that he’d just follow her right into the girl’s locker room. “I can’t believe you,” he adds fondly.

“You love meee,” she sing-songs.

He rolls his eyes and pulls out of McKinley High’s student parking lot.

They’re not driving for long before he can’t resist asking, “so was the entire thing set up?”

“Eh,” she says, stretching out a little in the passenger seat and yawning. “Kurt and I have been friends since he joined the Cheerios two years ago and he’s had a thing for you since I first showed him your ugly mug- hey!”

He reaches over and smacks her, accidentally clipping her in the boob, without looking away from the road. Her house wasn’t too far away from the school so he didn’t have to drive long.

“He’s clever, actually. He came up with the whole feud-thing between him and Sanatana to make it seem like we all weren’t that close.”

“So she’s not an actual bitch then?” Sebastian asks hopefully. Santana seems like a fierce woman and he wouldn’t mind being actual friends with her, he thinks that they’d make a really good team actually.

“Who, Santana?” Quinn asks, a humorous hysteria creeping into her voice. Her next line comes out with a laugh, “Oh she is totally a bitch, but we all love her dearly.”

“Oh.” It’s a couple more traffic lights later when he asks, “So why do it all? Why not just let Kurt and I meet and hit it off naturally?”

“Please, you’re both too idiotic. And it was fun for the girls and I to trick you,” she says earnestly.

They pull up to her house and the both of them get out. He’s not staying for long but he can’t seem to say goodbye just yet. After dinner, he will.

Later that night, hours later and back in his own room, he drafts quite a few texts to Kurt. Should he sarcastically respond to his first text? Should he just start a new conversation? How much does he want Kurt to know that he knows? Should he keep the charade going for longer?

So many questions, so naturally he just calls Quinn and she calls him an idiot for dwelling on it so much. She promises not to tell Kurt that he knows everything because he hasn’t quite decided what he wants to do with that information. Their conversation is short because it’s late and her father is pestering her to go to bed.

Sebastian stays up a little later after that, almost too late to even send a text, and ultimately settles on something. He sends it before he changes his mind for the umpteenth time and rolls over in his bed and lets sleep take him over.

#Glee #Kurtbastian #kurtbastian fanfic #fanfic #kurt hummel #sebastian smythe #kurt x sebastian #AU #alternate universe #cheerio!kurt #ACITW (if you squint)

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embodyingchaos · 7 months

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Hello again!!!can I do an ask for the episode when sebastion throws the slushie in blaines face and the reader just attacks him? (Sebastion deserved a beating for that ong) or could you write about when coach bieste first showed up and when everyone was avoiding her the reader does their best to talk to her(bieste also deserved better, shue and sue were jerks)??? THANK YOU

❥ hiii! so glad to see you on my asks again! i shall write the first option! i apologise that this is late and short and the ending is so abrupt 〒▽〒

definitely deserved pairing: glee x gn!reader genre: platonic, angst warnings: light violence, light assault, sebastian being an ASSHOLE, not rlly a character x reader word count: 1.5k

walking through the library on a monday morning was the usual routine for y/n, rummaging through books for research and song ideas. just as they took a book off a shelf, they were jump-scared by the face of a beaming rachel berry.

“holy shit, rachel. you can’t just do that to a person.” y/n scolded, placing a hand above their chest, trying to calm down their rapidly beating heart. “sorry, was wondering what you were up to. needed something to get my mind off… something.” rachel said suspiciously, looking like there was something heavy on her mind as she walked around the bookcase towards them. y/n noticed the tension but decided not to pry. “i’m just looking through some things.” the two of them made their way to the seating area, joining quinn and tina who were having a conversation.

“hey, guys.” y/n greeted, taking a seat beside the blonde. the two only smiled and waved.

y/n went through their books as the other three had their conversation before blaine came strutting into the library, singing a michael jackson classic, ‘wanna be startin’ somethin’’ alongside kurt, mercedes, santana and brittany. the four joined immediately, used to this at this point.

they all regrouped at the choir room soon enough and discussed about the first michael jackson number they’d do for the weak, planning out costumes based on some of mj’s iconic outfits.

after the rehearsal, a small part of the glee club met up after school the next day. “okay, favourite michael jackson memory. go!” blaine tells them and they all smiled. “when i was one, my mom showed me a vhs tape of his motown special, and when he did the moonwalk across the stage for the first time in history, i uttered my first words - ‘hot damn.’.” y/n grinned at the thought of a baby artie saying those words, finding it totally believable.

“i owe the king of pop a deep debt of gratitude. he’s the first one to pull off the sequined military jacket long before one kurt hummel made it iconic.” kurt boasted, “i have to be honest. i never really got him.” rachel’s words immediately caused everyone’s faces to morph into disbelief. “no way.” “and we are no longer on speaking terms.” y/n and artie share a look.

rachel quickly defends herself, saying she believed he is an amazing performer but she never really got what he was about. though these reasons did not calm them down, y/n could understand where she was coming from.

“okay, but just since you guys are so jazzed about him, i think it’s a good idea for regionals-” “that might not be the best idea.” a new voice entered the discussion and it was a voice they all dreaded. “hey, blaine. hello, everyone else.” sebastian smythe, a member of the dalton academy warblers and basically kurt’s arch nemesis. “does he live here or something? seriously, you are always here.” kurt asked incredulously, flabbergasted at the fact he showed up out of nowhere. y/n snorted before taking a sip of their drink.

artie ignored the two of them, “why don’t you think that’s a good idea?” “because we’re doing mj for regionals.” at sebastian’s words, y/n sighed into their cup before sinking further into the leather armchair they were on. “you see, warblers drew first position, so as soon as i heard what your plan was, i changed our set list accordingly.” he explained with a smug expression on his face, y/n really wanted to punch him.

“i’m sorry, how did you hear?” rachel asked, fully upset. “blaine told me this morning.” y/n’s head turned to look at blaine who only rolled his eyes at the boy, “i just called for a tip on how to get red wine out of my blazer piping, and he would not stop going on about it.” at this point, the whole group was staring at him with an accusing look.

blaine avoids their gazes, “i may have mentioned it.” “how often do you talk?” kurt’s question makes sebastian fake chuckle. “oh my god! hey, kurt! i didn’t recognise you. you are wearing boy clothes for once!” santana had enough after that. “alright, twink, i think it’s time that i show you a little lima heights hospitality.” this made y/n throw their head back against the chair in exasperation, “unless you want to join your relatives in prison, that’s probably not the best idea.” sebastian’s comeback only makes them feel worst. y/n tuned him out as he talked even more, wanting nothing more but for him to leave and go away.

when he did, they sighed. “thank god. i thought he’d never shut up and leave. he’s like those never-ending interactive voice responses you get on automated telephone systems. he never shuts up.” y/n groaned, sitting up straight again. “we need to do something about michael.” kurt announced and they all nodded, agreeing to discuss what to do the next day.

the next day came faster than it could. everyone piled into the choir room and were complaining about the whole incident when puck suddenly spoke up about his suspicions over how blaine was still somehow a warbler. “come on, blaine’s with us. he’d never intentionally hurt our chances at winning regionals.” y/n defended, walking into the room with their sling bag, taking a seat beside blaine.

blaine gives them a grateful smile, “either way, he’s on notice as far as i’m concerned.” “we should all be on notice.” finn interrupted his best friend, trying to reason with them. “i mean, next to vocal adrenaline, the warblers are the best glee club in the state and for a lot of us, this is our last shot at a championship, so we should stop complaining about the warblers and figure out how to beat them.” finn told everyone, being the voice of reason as usual.

“i couldn’t have said it better myself, finn.” mr. schue commented, walking into the room. “i’m less worried about our set list right now, and more interested in getting us in the right mind-set to crush those guys. which is why our lesson for the week is…” with a marker, he wrote down on the whiteboard ‘wwmjd’. “what would michael jackson do?” “he’d fight back. he’d say regionals is ours. mj is ours, and if they want it, they can pry it from our sequin-gloved hand.” y/n grinned at finn and nodded along, “mhm. straight up. in 1983, mtv said they wouldn’t air his ‘billie jean’ video, what’d he do? he fought back, they aired it and the thriller album sold an additional ten million copies.” artie added and y/n only stared at him, “you’re like a michael jackson encyclopaedia.” they commented quietly, the boy held a hand to his chest. “why, thank you.” he gratefully said.

blaine smirked, “i know what michael would do. i think he would take it to the streets.” at his words, the whole room filled with excited mutters. y/n kept quiet, though. they couldn’t help but feel like something was going to go wrong with this, terribly wrong.

after the glee club dispersed, they tried to chase blaine down before he got too far away. “blaine, are you sure this is a good idea?” they asked as the two of them walked to the entrance of the school. “i’m sure it’ll be all good. we’ll show them that they’re gonna regret taking michael from us, and then we’re going to get him back.” the former warbler said excitedly before heading out the door. “god, i hope so.” y/n whispered to themselves, clutching their bag tightly.

the day of the showdown arrives quicker than they expected. they’d all agreed to wear matching leather jackets, after kurt’s persistent determination, to have some unity. it was the new directions against the warblers after all.

at the sound of santana’s snap, the rest of the group came out and they started their jackson-off. truth be told, having a dance and sing-off in an empty parking lot was a very 60s thing to do but y/n had no complaints. their only complaint was that the more the song progressed and the closer they got to the ending, they’d seen one of the warblers grab a paper bag.

y/n’s eyes widened when they realise that sebastian was going to slushee kurt. “kurt!” they yelled but blaine had thrown himself in front of the boy, getting the liquid assault instead.

blaine yelled out in agony at the impact, falling to the ground as he pressed his palms against his eyes. everyone froze but y/n couldn’t handle it anymore. “you fucking asshole!” they clenched their fist tightly and laid a hard punch against sebastian’s face, making him stumble back towards his group members. “y/n.” finn warned them, placing a hand on their shoulder to calm them down so they don’t rip their rival into shreds.

the warblers soon fled the scene with guilty looks on their faces as they helped sebastian stabilise himself and walked off. the new directions could see that his lip was bruised and his cheek was swollen when he passed by. it was easy for any of them to say, he’s definitely deserved that punch in a while.

#glee masterlist #glee x reader #glee x gn reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #blaine x reader #blaine anderson #blaine anderson x reader #blaine anderson x reader platonic #reader insert #sebastian smythe #angst #violence #assault #darren criss #grant gustin #platonic

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thnxforknowingme · 11 months

Text

All's Fair (1/?)

Pairing: Kurtbastian

Rating: T

Summary: Sebastian’s pride is on the line when Hunter bets that he can’t seduce Kurt Hummel - and to sweeten the deal, there’s a monetary wager, too. When Kurt finds out, he suggests subterfuge: he and Sebastian will pretend to date, prove Hunter wrong, and split the winnings. It’s the perfect plan, so long as they don’t mess it up.

Notes: Written as part of the @kurtbastianarchive Kurtbastian Prompt Fest 2023, based on prompt #12 by @aurumjank! Timelines and plotlines from canon have been changed, but that should be made clear through the story itself. I have most of the plot planned out already, so I should be posting updates pretty regularly!

Mild warning for teenage boys being crude in this chapter.

It was the first week back after Spring Break, and the Dalton locker room was boisterous and chaotic as both the lacrosse and water polo teams finished afternoon practice. Despite the cacophony of running showers, slamming locker doors, and raucous conversation, one voice rose above the noise as varsity water polo center Lucas Heathmore regaled everyone in earshot about the X-rated exploits of his weekend at his girlfriend’s parentless house.

Lucas sat on a bench, hair and skin still damp, holding court. Boys cheered, laughed, and offered fist bumps as he said, “We’d been going so hard she could barely get out of bed on Sunday!”

Finally, Sebastian couldn’t take it anymore. He finished pulling on his shirt, ran a hand through his hair, and fixed Lucas with his most condescending smile.

“Heathmore,” he interrupted, loud enough to catch the attention of everyone around them. “If I wanted a play-by-play of the most rote heterosexual exchange of bodily fluids in all of history, I would have picked up a pulpy romance novel at the airport on my way back from Aspen.”

Lucas glared up at him. “Shut up, Smythe. You’re just jealous.”

Some of the half-clothed boys around them oohed in response to the insult, but Sebastian gave a genuine laugh. “I hooked up with three ski instructors at one party on Saturday,” he retorted. “There’s nothing about your life that I envy.”

“Whatever, Smythe,” Lucas said, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I’m personally not lining up to get fucked in the ass.”

Sebastian grinned as Lucas retreated from the locker room, accompanied by most of the water polo team. “Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it!” he called out.

The brief verbal spar over, most of the athletes went back to their private conversations, and the locker room emptied out as the boys went their separate ways. There were only a handful of lacrosse players left when another voice addressed Sebastian.

“Your bragging grows tiresome, Smythe.”

Sebastian grit his teeth and turned to see Hunter Clarington leaning against his locker at the end of the row, a towel slung over his shoulders. Ever since Hunter had shown up at the start of the school year, he’d been a constant thorn in Sebastian’s side. He’d joined the Warblers and the lacrosse team, and seemed to have made it his personal mission to jockey for every position of power Sebastian had built up at Dalton. Moreover, his personality was even more obnoxious than the average prep school boy. Who was he calling tiresome?

“It’s the same story every weekend,” Hunter went on, “and I have to say I’m bored with it. So, the desperate young gay men of Western Ohio and a couple of bicurious snow bums are obsessed with you. Or at least, with what you can offer them in a dark corner for twenty minutes.”

Sebastian heard a laugh from one of his teammates, and bristled. “Are you questioning my seduction abilities?”

Hunter shrugged. “I’m saying that you have game in a very particular context. There’s no way you could woo a man who actually had standards.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Careful with that kind of slander, Clarington. If I was interested in romance, I could have it.”

“Oh yeah?” Hunter asked, his smile making it clear that he had Sebastian exactly where he wanted him. “Then prove it. I bet you couldn’t get…Hummel, the new kid. No way would he ever go out with you, let alone hook up with you.”

Sebastian shut his locker. He thought about pointing out that Hunter was also a new kid - Kurt Hummel had transferred to Dalton only a couple months after Hunter had. He had to admit that there was something perennially new-kid-ish about Hummel, though. Even wearing the uniform, he seemed to stick out as someone who didn’t belong. “He has eyes - I’m sure he’d go out with me if I asked.” Sebastian said. “I just have less than zero interest in that.”

Hunter was being annoyingly persistent. “Okay, then ask him out. No, better - get him to go to Spring Gala with you.”

The Spring Gala was Dalton’s version of prom - the social event of the year, and the kind of buttoned-up, faculty-chaperoned party Sebastian absolutely despised.

“And why would I subject myself to that?” Sebastian asked.

Hunter smiled. “To substantiate your bragging rights. And, I don’t know, let’s make this interesting. For…a thousand dollars?” He glanced around at the few lacrosse players that made up their audience. “Does that seem fair, gentlemen?”

Sebastian nearly retorted about not needing the money, but he recognized the bait. This wasn’t about the actual wager - it was about Hunter trying to put him in his place, just like he had been all year. It was a power play, in front of their peers.

Well, Sebastian wasn’t about to take that lying down.

“Fine,” he agreed. “I’m very much looking forward to taking your allowance away.”

Hunter held out his hand, and Sebastian shook it firmly. “Right,” Hunter said easily. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Kurt was switching out textbooks between classes when Sebastian Smythe appeared at his side, leaning languorously against the neighboring locker.

“Hey there, Kurt,” he said.

Kurt stowed his chemistry binder neatly away. “Sebastian,” he acknowledged. “Can I help you?”

“Sure,” Sebastian said. “You can give me your number, and let me take you out this Saturday.”

Kurt turned to meet Sebastian’s eyes, and found him closer than expected. The guy had no concept of personal space. “Excuse me?”

Sebastian grinned, and Kurt found himself mildly impressed with how nice his teeth were. He had a very close view of them, after all. “You heard me. I’ve been intrigued by you ever since you mysteriously transferred mid-year and started pitching subversive ideas to the Warblers. Let me take you out and find out what makes you tick.” Sebastian winked. “I guarantee you won’t regret it.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. He’d never been asked out by a boy before, and the simple concept of it did make his heart leap a little. But he had also never exchanged more than a polite word with Sebastian Smythe. He thought Sebastian was cocky and narcissistic, and he was pretty sure Sebastian had hated every one of the so-called subversive changes Kurt had suggested to the Warbler council.

He examined Sebastian’s face, then glanced down the hall, where he could see a group of lacrosse players watching them, and then quickly looking away. Something clicked in his mind.

“This is a prank,” Kurt said matter-of-factly. “Nice try.”

He shut his locker and turned away, heading towards his next class.

“Hey, wait, no -” Sebastian followed him, brushing up against Kurt’s shoulder as he walked alongside him. “This isn’t a prank, Kurt, I’m serious. Come on, don’t leave me hanging.”

“You’re not gonna convince me,” Kurt insisted, refusing to slow down or make eye contact.

“Seriously, I’m not joking, I really -” Sebastian grabbed Kurt’s elbow, and when Kurt jerked away from him they both froze, standing in the middle of the hallway while other students flowed around them.

“Don’t touch me,” Kurt warned, glaring at him.

Sebastian looked at him for a moment, his expression calculating. “Okay, fine,” he relented. He looked around the busy hall. “It’s not a joke, but it is - just let me walk you to class. I’ll explain.”

They held their standoff for another moment. Kurt took a deep breath. “Fine,” he agreed.

When they continued walking, Sebastian spoke in a low voice. He stayed close enough for Kurt to hear, but kept some space between them. “It’s not a prank,” he said. “But it is a bet.”

“Oh my god,” Kurt said. “I think that’s actually more despicable.”

“It’s stupid, but Hunter put me up to it, and I really want to prove him wrong.” They arrived outside Kurt’s English classroom, but Sebastian kept talking when Kurt stilled. “I don’t care about fucking you over,” he said, and then shrugged, “although that might have been kind of fun. I just really don’t want him to hold this over me. He’s going to be a nightmare all year if you don’t go out with me.”

“Is that the upshot of the bet?” Kurt asked. “Just that either one of you gets to be smug?”

“Well,” Sebastian replied, “that and a thousand bucks.”

Kurt nearly dropped the books he was holding. He glanced around at the students that were still passing them. The bell was going to ring soon, but he was suddenly interested in continuing this conversation.

“Come on,” he told Sebastian, walking further down the corridor until he found the student lounge, currently empty. Once they were alone, Kurt turned back to Sebastian. “A thousand dollars?”

Sebastian crossed his arms. “Yeah. That was the bet part of the bet.”

Kurt briefly closed his eyes before speaking. “So you’re telling me that if I agree to go out with you, you’re gonna get paid a thousand dollars?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said. “Well, actually, if you agree to date me and we go to Spring Gala together.”

Kurt nodded, his mind still spinning. In the span of a few minutes he’d been asked on his first date, found out it was simply part of a cruel wager, and then discovered that there was a ridiculous amount of money on the line. Any derision or hurt he might feel about the situation had been overridden by shock - and then by the spark of an idea that might allow him to make the most of the unenviable position he’d been put in.

He considered the possibilities. Was he really going to do this?

Yes, yes he was.

He straightened his posture and said, “Well, that changes things.”

Sebastian tilted his head, one edge of his lips quirking up. “It does?”

“Yeah,” Kurt confirmed. “Look - a thousand dollars might not be an absurd amount of money to you, or to Hunter, but I want that money. So here’s the deal - I’ll pretend to date you, pretend to fall for you, go as your date to the Spring Gala - if you cut me in on the deal. I get five-hundred.”

Sebastian blinked. “Oh my god, Hummel, I thought you were totally lame, but you’re diabolical.”

The first bell rang through the halls, signaling that they had sixty seconds to get to class on time. “Do we have a deal, or what?” Kurt asked.

Sebastian grinned. “You’re gonna have to talk more nicely to me if people are going to believe you’re in love with me.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “If we pull this off, I’m putting it on college applications as an acting credit.”

“So we’re on for Saturday night?” Sebastian asked.

Kurt shook his head. “I’m going home this weekend.”

Sebastian scoffed. “Not if it means missing out on a date with me.”

The self-assuredness in Sebastian’s voice was grating, although Kurt knew that if someone he actually liked had really asked him out on a date, he would have stayed at Dalton for the weekend without question. “Let’s just tell people we went on a date,” he suggested. “We don’t actually have to do it.”

“Hunter is going to see through that in a second,” Sebastian argued. “What happened to your commitment? This is method acting, and you have half a grand on the line.”

Kurt scowled, already questioning his decision. “Fine. I’ll leave Saturday morning, we can have a date on Friday, okay? Meet me outside of Geary Hall.”

“It’s a date,” Sebastian said with that self-satisfied smile, and the final bell rang.

#kurtbastian #kurtbastianarchive #my fic #fic: all's fair

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