A/N: Hey, new chapter! Sorry for the wait! Enjoy!

Kurt let out a squeal as he looked at his phone on Sebastian's bed, the sound like music to Sebastian's ears. Music he hated, of course.
"What are you so happy about?" he asked, more irradiated than he intended.
"I'm seeing Blaine today!" Kurt smiled, oblivious to his tone.
Blaine. Who the hell was Blaine and why was he inducing Kurt to look so flustered, blushy, and make that horrid sound of joy?
"Who the hell is that," he asked closing his laptop, full attention on this boy that seemed to have grab Kurt's.
"Oh, he's my friend," Kurt said, blushing.
Oh, how he hated that blush and how hadn't put it there.
"Um, do I know this friend?"
"No, he goes to Dalton's little brother school: Lofften."
"Oh. Prep."
"No, he isn't Sebastian! You don't even know him, and if you did I bet you'd like him," Kurt said checking his phone again.
Does he do that when we text? He thought quickly I hope not!
"I don't like anyone."
"You like me," said Kurt, finally looking up from his phone; a shy smile on his lips.
Take that, Blaine.
"Yeah, whatever," he brushed it off nonchalantly hiding his grin as he pulled his laptop back into his lap.
"Well, if you're so skeptical horse teeth then why don't you just come with me to his game," suggested Kurt who was now standing in front of Sebastian's mirror fixing his already perfect hair.
"Mm, I suppose if that is fine with Blaine," he sneered. "What does he play?"
"Oh, soccer and please, he's so accommodating, unlike you."
"Oh? But is he hot?"
Kurt turned bright red, the blush spreading all the way down to his chest. Interesting.
"He is, huh. Get off at the thought of him?"
"Oh my god, please shut up!" squealed Kurt, hiding his face in his palms.
"Shut your dick up, killer you're the one who is in love with this Blaine guy," teased Sebastian.
"I am not in love with him," Kurt gasped.
"Oooh," giggled Sebastian, making his way to Kurt and wrapping his arms around his waist from behind. "Who do you love then?"
Sebastian stopped swaying for a moment, squeezing Kurt's waist for a moment and a million things went through his mind: Maybe this is how real couples feel, what the hell am I doing? Kurt's so warm, I wonder if he likes this . . .
"Not Blaine," answers Kurt slowly examining their position in the mirror. His expression was confused at Sebastian's endearment, because well what straight male wraps their hands around his gay friends waist as if it the most casual thing ever?
"Mm, think you might ever like him?" he asked. Sebastian quickly glanced at Kurt's pale arms to see nothing silky skin, which made him squeeze a bit tighter before letting go but not removing his hand from Kurt's waist.
The brunette audibly gulped, "I already do." He said looking down.
"Um, why do you make it sound like a bad thing? Is he straight, or something?"
Kurt laughed, "No, gay."
"Then shut up Kurt, if you like him, go for him he'd be lucky. But, if he doesn't like you back he's an idiot," Sebastian said finally moving to change his shirt. If he was going to a game where there would be competition for Kurt's affections (not like he would ever admit out loud that he was a bit intimidated by this Blaine guy) he was going to have to step it up notch.
"I don't think he'll—"Kurt's shut his mouth when Sebastian stripped his polo.

Suddenly the tanned boy was contemplating not even putting on a shirt seeing Kurt's reaction. Feigning innocence he stretched and began to lounge around his room, pretending to look for a shirt. "You were saying something, Kurt?"

Kurt snapped out of his reverie and blushed a deep scarlet (that, Sebastian had put there) before turning to the mirror to look busy, but Sebastian knew better. Kurt was always so pure and sweet and pale which made it all the more fun to toy with him. This was only the second time they'd been to Sebastian's and he'd already copped a feel, and showed him the goods. Things were certainly progressing.

"So, Rachel said Quinn went to your house. How horrible was that?"

Or, not progressing.

Sebastian really didn't want to think about Quinn, that horrible day in which he'd jacked off to Kurt, and blurted out to Fabray he was gay; something he barely knew himself. But, Kurt would suspect something was up if he avoided the question.

"Um, I don't know depends how she looked after it," he replied, shrugging on a purple v-neck.

"Rachel and Quinn had an awkward run-in that day, whereas Rachel said Quinn was unbearably sweet. You must've done something right."

Or horribly, horribly wrong and she was plotting something deadly with the information she had gotten precisely two days prior. Today was Sunday, he wouldn't have to be forced into class with her just yet but he could feel the minutes ticking away and new something us up her sleeve. It was unnerving, but a part of him just didn't care; so happy to get it out there, so happy to have that revelation even with Quinn's help.

Sebastian never gave a damn, or at least kept up the fuax expressionism of boredom through everything, always so cool and collected drawling bored mean sentences. But, being gay in Lima Ohio left him shaky and paranoid just waiting for Quinn to take the next move because the ball was in her court. It was a lot like being a pawn in chess, and she was the queen. It sickens him now that he wanted to be Fabray's king, no matter how easy middle school made it, he'd rather be a pawn and strike when she least expects it.

Little did Sebastian know, she was doing something quite unexpected.

He shrugged, dismissively changing the subject. "When's his soccer game? Guessing soon by the way you're picking at every article of clothing you're wearing."

"What time is it right now?"

"1:30."

"Okay, we should get going, then." Kurt paused taking one last look, and grabbed his jacket.

They began to walk a few blocks down from Sebastian's house to the JFK arena, the smell of fresh rain and cut grass greeting them.

"So, Kurt, in all seriousness you like this guy," he asked carefully, earning a blush from his friend adjusting his gray jacket.

"Um, maybe," he paused. "Why? I mean, you're straight, doesn't this kind of thing repulse you?"

Sebastian actually stopped walking at that statement; did Kurt think he was some kind of monster?

"Kurt, why would you even ask that," Sebastian deadpanned, continuing walking. Saying nothing to one another until they reached the arena that was filtering with patrons; they took a seat at the edge of the bleachers last step.

"Which was is he, then? Stocky blonde with the sad attempt at facial hair, the overly-large dumbfounded kid that just got hit, the chick who is for some reason playing, that older man—"

"He's the coach," Kurt said pointedly.

"Kinky."

Kurt made a strangled down of disgust as he waved back to the raven haired boy hastily and Sebastian outright laughed.

"Oh, Kurt, I'd rather you'd have picked the butch."

"What's wrong with him," Kurt asked quickly to defend his might-be-more-than friend.

"For one, he looks like four-year-old that got a hold of too much gel—and oh. Look he tripped over his gigantic nose," Sebastian snickered and Kurt threw him a death glare.

The taller boy just laughed, "Sorry Kurt," he said with what Kurt suspected no sincerity at all.

The game consisted of Blaine sneaking looks to the boy sitting next to Kurt too close for his liking, and Sebastian making obscene jokes towards the hobbit as he referred.

By the end of the game, they hated each other and Blaine lost so much focus he almost missed the last goal but one glance to Kurt and he'd won the whole game; much to Sebastian's dismay.

The duo stood and met Blaine by the sidelines of the field, the dark-haired boy panting slightly but nevertheless looking triumphant.

"Hi, Blaine," Kurt said shyly.

"Sebastian," he greeted loudly, and there was a hint of mock to his tone as he stuck out his hand.

The smaller boy cocked his head, and regarded Sebastian before taking his hand and shaking it stiffly.

"Uh, hi. I didn't know you were bringing a friend Kurt," Blaine said a bit put out but quickly changed his tone. "I mean, not like I wouldn't love to meet your friends."

"Wouldn't call him that."

"Best friends, actually. Lovers, more like it, the most intimate of friends," Sebastian said causally, and Kurt hit him in the ribs.

Blaine narrowed his eyes as Kurt excused himself when his phone rung, "Oh, it's my dad wait a second."

Kurt truly looked ready to dismiss the call just from the tension of his two friends glaring at one another, but it was his dad. So, he made his way a few yards down out of ear-shot when Sebastian spoke up.

"I don't like you," he declared. No shame, no sugarcoat, plain and simple.

Blaine just blinked owlishly, he'd never been told so upfront even when he came out. Actions usually spoke louder than words at his school in Westerville.

"I didn't like that little cute wave, I didn't like those glances, I didn't like those fire eyes raking down Kurt's body, and I don't like you, Hobbit. Kurt is my. . ." he paused but recovered, "friend. So, I'd back off if I were you."

A smirk tilted Sebastian's lips as the smaller paled slightly, but he made a quick recovery as well. "Luckily I am not you, and Kurt isn't your property." Blaine said, tone firm as he crossed his hands over his chest.

"No, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him."

Blaine scoffed, "You like Kurt to, then?"

For first time out loud (well, in front of another person) he confessed with a twist, "No, you idiot. Kurt likes me. He has absolutely no interest in you, pretty boy, he just pity's you."

"I don't believe you," Blaine said.

Sebastian laughed darkly, "Sorry, but he did ask me to come to some losers game for the sole purpose of not having to bare this show of yours alone. I mean, honestly, a soccer game, Blaine? What is this, third grade?" He snorted.

Blaine's fist balled up as he tried to control his anger, "Kurt—you know nothing about Kurt and I!"

"I know he isn't interested."

"And, what you're more his type, ferret?"

"Tell ya when I figure that out, Hobbit."

Just then Kurt gracefully came back before Blaine could retort.

"Dad says I need to come home for an emergency, mind walking me home," he'd originally asked Blaine, but Sebastian quickly stepped up.

"Course, Kurt. Come on, bye Blaine. Lovely meeting you," he said sweetly, but the glint in his eye perceived his kind tone as he steered Kurt off the field.

"God, Bas, could you have been more of a jerk," Kurt growled when they were down the street.

Sebastian, genuinely thinking he was saving Kurt from that mess of product, looked at him offended. "Um, Kurt that guy isn't good enough for you. He deserved it."

Kurt stopped dead in his tracks and glared at him, "Deserved what?"

Sebastian opened and closed his mouth several times only to end up speechless.

"That's what I thought," Kurt turned his heel and began speed walking up the street.

"Kurt—"

"Save it, Smythe you had no right. I'll walk myself home, thanks." He spat.

Sebastian stopped trailing at his heels, and sighed, running his hand through his hair as Kurt walked off into the distance. Back to the start.

GLEE.

By the time Kurt got home he was ready to collapse on his bed, and not because of all the walking. Opening the door with his key, he stepped in and took off his boots as he heard the t.v blaring in the living room. Following the sound he watched as his dad turned his head over his shoulder, with a frown.

"Hi, dad what's up?"

"Kurt sit down," Burt ordered, and turned off the television without a glance, resting his hands in his lap.

Well, shit.

Kurt sat on the coffee table, uncomfortable underneath his father's authorize manner and stare.

"Look, son. I'm not saying you haven't been through hell after everything, with your mom dying, and growing up with just me—"

"You're enough."

"Please, let me finish, Kurt. I can see why you would resort to this, after coming out and all the. . . Rough times—"

Understatement, Kurt thought bitterly.

"You'd faced since with bullies in school, and the pain but I always prided you on being so strong but I guess you're better at acting than you thought Kurt."

Kurt's eyes widened as his father opened a shoe box he hadn't seen on the coffee table that revealed a long, slim, and harmful blade once the innocent enough cover had shed.

His blade.

The blade he cut himself with, and the blade his father just found, and it connected too quickly—too quickly for Kurt to lie, too quickly for Kurt to even process how to respond.

So he didn't, the blade said enough on its own.

A/N: Wow that was a depressing, huh? But, it had to be done. Anything you'd like to see? Tell me! Also, Quinn shall be in the next chapter, Blaine, and plenty of pissed off and angst!Seb.

Review and I will be your best friend .