It's Hard To Be The One Who Stays [Kurtbastian]

Beginning Again (August, 2013)

A/N: Heads-up on more explicit content! Lots of feelings to go with it, but if you'd rather skip, stop reading at "They've got time" and pick up again at "Kurt laughs as he tucks both of them away."

"You're back," Kurt says beatifically, rising from his chair as Sebastian opens their apartment door, his hair still matted to his forehead from his morning jog.

Sebastian stares at him as if he's seen a ghost.

"What are you doing up?" he says suspiciously. "Are you mad at me for something?"

"What—no—why would you think that?"

"Because you don't wake up this early unless someone's forcing you or I'm giving you a blowjob, and it's"—Sebastian's eyes flicker over the clock on their wall—"8 o'clock in the morning."

"I do sometimes," Kurt insists, forcing himself to continue to beam as attractively as possible at Sebastian. He wonders if Sebastian notices Kurt is wearing the slim white shirt Kurt thinks is way too boring but Sebastian loves on him, with enough buttons open that he's skirting Fabio-levels of collarbone.

"8 o'clock," Sebastian repeats. "On a Sunday. When most of the time I can't even get you to brunch."

The smile's a lost cause. Kurt scowls. "I just did today, okay? Now, are you going to be difficult, or are you going to change and go with me to that new breakfast place in Soho?"

Sebastian rolls his eyes, but he kicks the door closed and wanders past Kurt over to the bathroom, which means his boyfriend is cooperating for once in Kurt's very difficult life.

As he goes, Kurt notices that his jogger's shorts are very short, and his worn-out grey tank is sticking very tightly to his wonderful pecs. And then there's the smell of Seb's sweat, which he's still got a Pavlovian response to from high school.

Kurt licks his lips, and then he's backing Sebastian up against the bathroom door and shoving his hands down Sebastian's pants, because the reservation is actually a bit closer to brunch-time - Kurt himself is a little amazed he got up this early. They've got time.

"Oh fuck, Kurt," Seb gasps, and then, to his credit, gets with the program very quickly, unzipping Kurt's jeans and pulling out Kurt's own cock and lining them up for abortive little thrusts, as he groans into their open-mouth kisses.

Kurt pulls Sebastian closer by his ass and pushes back just as hard, letting out a little mewl as he feels the sparks crawl up his spine, shockingly fast. He was feeling too giddy to indulge in his usual morning—relaxation—on Sundays, and so it isn't taking very long at all. Sebastian, of course, picks up what that mewl means, and Kurt can practically see his smirk as he trails his lips down to Kurt's sensitive spot on his neck, right at his pulse point.

"Don't you dare leave a mark," Kurt grits out. "It's too hot in August to be wearing a scarf, I'll look like a lunatic."

"You could just not wear one, Kurt," Sebastian says between gasps, as Kurt speeds up their hands, clasped together over them both. "Might help convince some people you're not prepubescent and capable of getting laid."

"For some reason, I'm not really hurt by insults about my looks when they're coming from the person I'm having sex with," Kurt huffs out.

Seb laughs, but obliges by sucking on his neck only very lightly. Truth be told, it doesn't feel half as great as when he's doing it to bruise, but it's still plenty arousing. Before long, Kurt is throwing his head back and spilling all over Seb's hand and cock, while Sebastian encourages him with whispers of "Kurt" and "so fucking sexy" and "babe" and all sorts of other indulgent nonsense that is Sebastian's sex talk.