A/N: Warning for minor voyeurism and mutual masturbation. Inspired by many pics sent to me on tumblr by afleshjackforblainecharitydrive xD This series, though not posted as such here, is called "He Was My Almost", and goes in order from 'Bad Dreams', 'A Compromised Position', and 'The Bedroom Arrangement'.

Sebastian races down the hall to Kurt's room. He slips a few steps, sliding the final foot or so in his socked feet. He'd been doing his History homework alone in his own room for the past half-an-hour, surrounded by complete silence, when he made the decision to abandon Charlemagne and go see Kurt. Silence is conspicuous with Kurt as his neighbor. Between the showtunes he plays at full volume until the walls shake, his television tuned in at all hours to whatever oldie-goldie movie he's streaming from Netflix, his loud conversations with friends from his old school, or Sebastian's personal favorite, practicing his singing, Kurt rarely keeps quiet. But Sebastian hasn't heard anything from Kurt's room, even though he knows for sure Kurt's in there.

Which means Sebastian knows exactly what Kurt is doing, and he isn't about to miss out.

Sebastian pulls his copy of Kurt's key out of his pocket and opens the door. His key to Kurt's room is a guarded secret – a secret from everyone but Kurt. Of course, Kurt knows. It would be difficult to explain how Sebastian manages to get into Kurt's room at night otherwise. He's not that good a lock-picker, but he's pretty handy with a wad of carpenter's putty.

"Hey, Kurt," he says, nonchalantly strolling inside, not making eye-contact right away, "can I borrow your copy of The Great Gatsby?" He walks to Kurt's bookcase, looking over the titles, pretending to be ignorant of the grunts behind him, the rapid fap-fap of skin on skin. "I think I left mine in Mr. Gruber's classroom." Sebastian hears a sustained groan, one laced with defeat but holding enough pleasure to make Sebastian's body rise to its call. Still, Sebastian draws this performance out, as much for his own pleasure as for Kurt's agony. "He left for the day, and I don't want to borrow one from Jeff because he doodles in the mar-"

Sebastian catches Kurt's reflection in a picture frame – unfortunately a frame containing a picture of Kurt's dad, but Sebastian overlooks it - and his sentence drops. Sebastian had planned on acting aloof, not letting anything he saw when he opened the door get to him and putting Kurt on the spot, but that plan spins out and crashes hard. Kurt is doing exactly what Sebastian suspected, spread out on his bed, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt but with the fly to his jeans wide open, his cock in his hand. Sebastian swallows down the dry-heat tightening his throat when he sees it. It isn't just that Kurt is hung, which he is. And it isn't like this is the first time Sebastian has seen Kurt's cock, which it so isn't. But Kurt looks exceptional like this – exquisite in a way Sebastian can't describe, that no words seem to adequately define. Sebastian is staring, but not his usual leering. He feels vulnerable watching, even though Kurt's the one with his pants unzipped, not him. With a flash of dark eyes, Kurt acknowledges him, and Sebastian snaps himself back together quickly, sealing those holes before Kurt notices them.

"Jeez, Hummel," Sebastian says with a weak laugh. "Do you mind? Anyone can walk in here, you know."

"The door was locked." Kurt slows his hand, dropping his head back against the wall, hitting the drywall with a thunk. "You have a key. You don't even knock anymore."

"Knocking's no fun," Sebastian says, locking the door behind him and walking up to the bed. "So, are you about done?"

Kurt glares up at Sebastian like he's insane, blue eyes black with arousal. "No."

Sebastian nods, maintaining his sense of calm, trying his best to look like he didn't just race down here for this.

"Are you good for some company?" Sebastian asks.

Kurt rolls his head dramatically and groans. "Don't you have an empty ass room of your own to jack off in, Smythe?"

"Yeah." Sebastian shrugs. "But I like it better in here." Kurt gives Sebastian a sarcastic once-over. He smirks. He can see right through Sebastian's dumb-ass excuses. It's almost insulting that a boy infamous for his ability to manipulate people into doing what he wants has gotten lazy when it comes to Kurt. "Mind if I join you?"

Kurt huffs and kicks the mattress, pitching a fit at being interrupted, but he scoots over toward the wall.

"Fine. As long as you stay on that side of the bed."

Kurt doesn't wait for Sebastian to climb on before he returns to whacking off, but when Sebastian doesn't move, Kurt stops again. He glares at Sebastian harder, panting in exasperation.

"What Smythe?"

Sebastian smiles, amused by the irritation he's causing. He likes Kurt frustrated, and sexual frustration is his favorite kind. "I prefer being naked."

"Then get naked," Kurt snaps, concentrating on keeping his erection from dying. Truthfully, it's not difficult staying hard with Sebastian standing over him, staring at him, eyes shamelessly following every stroke of Kurt's fist over his cock.

"But you're dressed," Sebastian whines.

"Baby," Kurt says with a stern flick of his eyes, "I'm not stopping to undress."

"Well, can I at least take off your shirt?"

The question brings Kurt's erection back with a painful throb, the thought of Sebastian's hands on him, lifting up his shirt to undress him while he strokes himself, eyes locked on his, lips close enough to touch…

"Sure," Kurt shrugs, sounding impatient. "Why not. It's not like I'm in the middle of anything."

Sebastian takes the hem of Kurt's shirt in his fingers. Maneuvering around Kurt's fist, he lifts the shirt over Kurt's chest. Kurt sits up an inch from his pillow, breath catching the closer he gets to the warmth of Sebastian's hands. He shifts his cock from one hand to another as he pulls his arms through. Sebastian yanks the shirt over Kurt's head and tosses it to the side.

"So, are you going to get undressed?" Kurt asks, falling onto his pillow and getting back to business, getting the feeling that his nice, long stress reliever is going to end up being over with real quick if Sebastian strips down to nothing.

Sebastian considers it, then shakes his head.

"I think I'll just do like you," Sebastian says after a heavy swallow, "and just take off my shirt."

"Goody," Kurt mutters, relieved. He'd probably lose Sebastian's respect entirely if he blew his load simply because Sebastian exposed some skin.

Sebastian lets his blazer fall to the floor. He undoes the buttons of his shirt, quickly working through them, and drops that on top of the blazer. Kurt watches him, but only from the corner of his eye, not bringing attention to the fact that he's staring, that the boy undressing before him has added fuel to the fantasy of him and Sebastian that he already had in place in his head when this all began.

Sebastian sits on the bed beside Kurt, their arms touching, rubbing against each other as Kurt's hand moves. Kurt rests his head back against the wall with eyes shut now that Sebastian has finally gotten his shit together. Sebastian unbuttons and unzips his slacks. He's already hard, actually already so close to cumming, it's embarrassing.

Sebastian watches Kurt while he strokes his own erection. They've done this a few times together, and Kurt keeps his eyes closed for the most part, but Sebastian always ends up watching. The way Kurt handles himself fascinates Sebastian. He doesn't just fuck himself with his fist. He'll use only his fingers, barely touching, then his nails, lightly scratching from root to tip. He holds himself tight and pounds up with us hips hard, making the bed shake.

That move in particular makes Sebastian's mouth water. It makes parts of his body ache, parts that feel hollow, desperate to feel whole.

Sebastian wants to sink his lips over him, but now's not the time. Kurt isn't always up for that.

Kurt's eyelids flutter, blue irises glancing Sebastian's way. Kurt bites his lower lip and closes his eyes again. It looks to Sebastian like he's about to say something, but Sebastian knows better than to ask. Asking might get him kicked out.

Not that he'd leave, which would make the rest of this time really awkward.

"You cummin', Bas?" Kurt asks, side-eying Sebastian as his legs begin to shake.

"Yeah," Sebastian says, his voice strained. "Yeah, I am."

"Come on, Smythe," Kurt says, his voice husky. "Mess me up."

Sebastian rolls to his side, trying to time it, aiming to hit Kurt's chest, but he falls short, hitting Kurt's arm instead, and Kurt chuckles at his ineffectual attempt.

"Dude!" Kurt laughs. "Come on. You're wasting it."

Sebastian wobbles back and forth, trying to get in better position. He crushes his left arm beneath him, the dull ache of a cramp starting near his elbow.

"Forgive the fuck out of me if my aim isn't the best right now."

"Here." Kurt grabs Sebastian's shoulder and tugs him closer, kissing him hard enough to bruise his lips. The flavor of Sebastian under Kurt's tongue makes his daydream real and he cums, painting Sebastian's chest, hitting underneath his chin. Sebastian doesn't notice, floating in the sensation of kissing Kurt with Kurt's pulsing cock pressed against the back of his hand, the head rubbing against his own. Even after he's spent, his body coils, begging for more – more friction, more heat, more release.

When he notices that Kurt has wrapped his long fingers around both their cocks together and is stroking them through, his hips buck, eager to go again.

"Jesus," Kurt moans as his hand stutters to a halt. "Okay, you're forgiven for interrupting."

"Forgiven?" Sebastian says, laying kisses across Kurt's cheek. "I think the words you're looking for are thank and you."

"Don't get too cocky," Kurt chuckles, pushing Sebastian away. "I was doing fine on my own." Kurt reaches behind him for his shirt and wipes the dripping white mess from his hands. "Here." Kurt hands over an edge. "Use this." Kurt had meant for Sebastian to wipe the cum from his hand, but Sebastian takes the shirt and starts to clean Kurt up with it. Kurt watches with an odd expression as Sebastian wipes the cum from his chest and stomach, then flips it over and uses it to clean up his own chest and chin before dropping the shirt over the side to the floor. The room becomes silent. The air is hot and there's a definite smell of sex and sweat to it, which is kind of disappointing considering what didn't happen.

What has yet to happen between them.

Sebastian starts toying with himself, slipping his cock back in his pants and zipping up, getting ready to go before things get too uncomfortable.

"You staying, Smythe?" Kurt asks, beating Sebastian before he can come up with some lame reason to go, like finishing up his homework or a Skype call with his mom.

Sebastian doesn't look at Kurt, but there's a smile on his lips. Kurt sees it, but he doesn't mention it, because he knows Sebastian will only play it off.

"Would you mind if I did?" Sebastian asks, stopping at the button of his pants.

Kurt shrugs. "Makes no difference to me."

Sebastian nods.

That's how they discuss decisions that might have deeper emotions attach to them – with shrugs and nods.

"Yeah, alright," he says. "As long as it makes no difference."

Kurt sighs, picking up the remote to the small flat-screen he keeps on table somewhat at the foot of his bed, close enough to see clearly but far enough that he doesn't accidentally kick it when he has a nightmare – not that he's had too many of those lately. Not with Sebastian around. He hands the remote to Sebastian, silently giving him permission to pick something. Sebastian leans into him and Kurt puts an arm around his shoulder.

"Nope," Kurt says. "No difference at all."