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

Sealed with a Memory (May, 2019)

"Good morning," Kurt says, bleary-eyed, as he patters over to give Sebastian a good morning kiss. He drapes himself over his back, his hands burrowing under Sebastian's shirt to smooth over his abs where he's warm and toned under Kurt's fingertips. He snuggles into Sebastian's neck, kisses the vein there lingeringly.

"Glad to see you've come back from the dead to join us, Princess," Seb says, continuing to flip his pancake and not even telegraphing a hint of distraction despite Kurt's wandering hands. He tilts his head towards the clock. "It's just still early enough that we can call this brunch and not lunch. I left some oranges by the juicer, go make two glasses of orange juice and put out the utensils?"

The romance was really and truly dead, Kurt thinks, despairingly.

But he's been well-trained, so he does go and start the machine.

Then again, Kurt thinks, looking back with unbearable fondness—he'd die if anyone ever captured the expression he's sure he's making on camera—, there's a gorgeous man in his beautiful apartment making him Sunday brunch. It's every romantic dream Kurt had when he was young come true.

Even if the man still can't quite cook, Kurt thinks, laughing inwardly as he watches Sebastian wince and dump a charred and soggy pancake into the trash.

"Need help?" Kurt asks, cheerfully.

"No," Sebastian says. "I'm a fucking law student. I can make pancakes." He spits that last word out so vehemently Kurt can't help but actually laugh out loud this time.

Sebastian glares at him.

"See if I take you any where today," he says spitefully.

"Of course you will. I haven't been free for a weekend in ages. And you're clearly planning something nice. There's pancake and orange juice, you've done your hair and wearing things I don't hate, and you've been working nonstop the past several nights to clear your calendar," Kurt replies, laughing again as he turns back to fill two glasses and carry them to the table, where Sebastian's taken out the nice plates.

His entire body is still hurting a bit from rehearsals earlier this week, but it's the good kind of sore, the ache that comes from working hard. It'll be a couple of months yet before the show starts its run, but Kurt's learnt to trust his instincts, and they're drumming with excitement. He's done a couple of bit parts, some bigger roles off-off-Broadway, but this show—this show feels like it could be one that moves him to the next level.

Everyone involved is bit a rehearsal-crazy, though, so he's glad to be getting this Sunday off. He gets the feeling these lazy Sundays will only get harder to secure in the near future, what with his future practice schedule and Sebastian's looming finals.

Sebastian comes over and slams the pancakes down unnecessarily hard, along with scones from the French-style bakery next door to them and some fruit.

"I've been told I look hot in my normal clothes, you know," Sebastian says.

"You shouldn't listen to everything boys at the club tell you," Kurt teases, but when Sebastian seems like he's about to tip from adorably ruffled to truly annoyed, Kurt leans over the table and gives him a quick peck. "But luckily for you, even though your clothes are terribly boring, you are hot, so they're not too bad on you."

"And your clothes try too hard. You're lucky you've got a great ass," Sebastian volleys back, but with an eye roll that turns into a smile when Kurt flutters his eyelashes and mock-adjusts his vest.

Kurt splits the stack of pancakes between the two of them quickly, giving himself several extra and digging in. Really, they came out quite well, Kurt thinks, picking one up and examining one with the critical eye of someone who actually knows how to cook. Although Kurt was ravenous so he wouldn't have been picky anyway. Last night he came home, washed his face, and crashed so fast he skipped dinner entirely.