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

Epilogue

It's just the two of them in their honeymoon suite now.

Their loved ones have all been either shipped home or sent to the hotel bar downstairs. Inside their suite, three or candles glow on every available horizontal surface that isn't the bed. And even though Kurt explicitly told the hotel staff "no romance", to spare him Sebastian's inevitable caustic remarks, he doesn't really feel like complaining, because Sebastian's skin is gleaming golden in the candlelight.

Their matching white tuxedos were already put away side-by-side in the suite closet—and Kurt stands by their outfit decisions, even if Sebastian wearing white was not so much ironic as it was ridiculous, and Rachel took the opportunity to regal the wedding guests with the times she'd walked in on them. It was tradition, and it complemented their complexions.

Kurt is stripped down to just his briefs and a thin white undershirt, while Sebastian now wears nothing but low-riding Columbia sweatpants.

Kurt wants to suck on his hollowed hipbones, and then down to the shadows lower still.

But not yet.

He looks down at the two black ring boxes lying innocently between them, waiting, and then back up at Sebastian. His stomach is twisting oddly, all of a sudden, the lazy lust evaporating as he sees the same uncertainty infect Sebastian.

He knows it's time to exchange the rings, in full view of each other. They'd done everything the traditional way—given the ring boxes in front of the guests, keeping the ring exchange itself for when they are alone. The moment when one's partner slides off one's silver ring and replaces it with the gold, engraved with their own name, is too sacred to be shared.

Of course, they are non-traditional where it matters most. Their rings won't be matching.

Kurt thinks about Sebastian baring the skin of Kurt's ring finger, skin that has been covered since he was eighteen, skin he himself hasn't seen since then, and his hand trembles.

He knew this would happen today, of course, and yet he hasn't let himself think through to this very moment, the details of how Sebastian might react. Fuck, he doesn't know how he will react when he's seeing someone else's name on his Sebastian, whom he just declared in front of everyone they cared for as the love of his life.

Before he's even consciously aware of the thought, he's reached out his right hand for Sebastian's, and Sebastian doesn't hesitate in grasping back. They're clutching at each other, their hands bloodless, and leaning in. Their lips meet desperately in the middle.

When they part, they're both breathing hard.

Sebastian casts a glance over at the rings again, looks at Kurt, and flits his eyes back to the rings.

His eyes grow determined, the glint that made Kurt fall in love with him in the first place surfacing.

"I'm first," he says, firmly. He throws the ring box marked S at Kurt, who fumbles to catch it. And despite the serious moment, Seb rolls his eyes.

"Thank God you never wanted to play a sport," he says.

Then within pausing even a beat, he—against every traditional, because Sebastian is still Sebastian, even on his wedding day—pulls off his own silver ring in one smooth motion and splays it out for Kurt to read in the candlelight.

There, in faded black letters. Kurt E. Hummel.

Kurt can't breathe.

"Let's get this over with. Put the ring on me so we can just get to the newlywed sex," he hears Sebastian say. He almost manages to hide the waver in his voice.