leave my heart out of this | kurtbastian

i. not enchanted to meet you

prompt from my favorite person: @stberrylane

warning: language.

look at me spinning Taylor Swift lyrics for this story 😏
~

"OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE," comes an unfamiliar voice through the loud shouts and music in the bowling alley. "Will you stop drooling over your friend over there? It looks like you're about to pass out every time he glances at you, and it's sickening. I'm about to vomit."

Kurt Hummel snaps his gaze away from watching his best friend, Blaine Anderson, preparing to throw the bowling ball to look for the voice that just spoke. This voice, full of snark and some form of disgust, belongs to the young man leaning against the counter behind Kurt's chair. He has emerald eyes and dark brown hair that's swept up with a lot less gel than Blaine's. His face makes him look younger than he probably is, so he's probably Kurt's age give or take. The clothes, however, don't give too much away. The young man has clothed himself in dark jeans and some weird, dressy, green shirt.

"I'm sorry," says Kurt, forcing himself to stop analyzing the man in front of him and meet his gaze. "Who are you and how is this your business?"

The man's lips curve up into a smug, half-smirk. He shrugs one shoulder carelessly before moving closer. "Sebastian Smythe," he says, extending a hand. Kurt takes it hesitantly, already feeling some questionable vibe. "And you're right, this is none of my business. It's just hard to watch you eye-fuck a man that has no clue that you're doing it. I thought that you could use some help or at least ask you to stop because, frankly, I'm about two seconds away from punching you or vomiting."

Kurt feels his jaw lock into place. It takes all of his self-control to not react physically. "Okay, well, I'm sorry that my watching my friend bowl disturbs you."

The man, Sebastian, let out a short laugh before shaking his head. "Look," he says. "You're cute, so why isn't that friend of yours--" he gestures in Blaine's general direction "—so all over you that I would need to complain to the manager?"

Kurt tilts his head, feeling his lip curl back. He's waiting for the slur to come, the punch. But it doesn't, and he's wondering why. This Sebastian sounds like every homophobic, privileged, arrogant, teenage asshole he's ever encountered. Except for certain people, including his friends and family, most he comes across are like that. They judge him because he's weird, before getting to know all of him.

"Look," he says, pushing himself to let out a breath. "If you're here to insult me or something, just get on with it. I get it, I'm a homosexual, a sinner, you name it. But please, just let the insult fly and then leave me alone."

He expects Sebastian to go ahead and call him a slur right then and there. What he doesn't expect is for Sebastian to blink, clearly confused, and say, "Now, why would I do that?"

It's Kurt's turn to feel confused now.

Sebastian looks him up and down, his eyes widening just slightly as the realization hits him. He lets out a sharp laugh, looking far too pleased and a bit insulted. "Oh, I see." He folds his hands in his lap, crossing his legs in some poised way—almost like a therapist. His gaze flickers over to where Blaine and the boys from the glee club stand together. "Well, let me tell you something, I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"Kurt Hummel."

"Well, Kurt Hummel," says Sebastian, leaning in closer. His emerald eyes seem to twinkle in the flashing disco lights; they're warm, but also cool. Inviting, but cautious. "I think you'll find that I'm nothing like those homophobic, arrogant, ignorant dickwads that you've come across. I truly would like to help you, Kurt. Some people should get to have a wholesome relationship, and I think you're one of those people."