Chapter summary: Kurt & Sebastian get another unexpected visitor.

"Oh god, yes..."

Someone was knocking on the door.

"Don't stop... ah... Bas...please..."

The knocking became insistent. Sebastian groaned in frustration and pulled away from his boyfriend.

"Don't go anywhere. Whoever it is, I'll get rid of them," he promised, and pressed a hard kiss on Kurt's stomach. Grabbing a shirt from the floor, he quickly wiped down his face and his chest before going to the door.

"Go away, I'm busy," he said as he pulled open the door, and froze as he saw who was standing in front of him.

"Sebastian. We need to talk."

Sebastian looked over his shoulder at Kurt and then back at the doorway. "Now is not a good time."

"I wasn't asking for your permission."

Kurt listened closely. He didn't recognize the man's voice, but he already disliked him. He could tell by Sebastian's voice that something was wrong.

"I was talking to my old acquaintance Dr Fernhouse the other day. You may remember him from your...unfortunate liaison with his son? Imagine my surprise when he told me he would soon be teaching a Smythe at NYU. 'Surely not my son,' I told him, but he seemed rather sure of the fact."

Sebastian shifted from one foot to the other and said nothing. Kurt saw the knuckles on his hand that held the door turn white, and the muscles in his shoulders bunched up.

"Well?" his father demanded. "Is it true?"

"Yes," Sebastian finally said. Kurt had never heard him sound so cowed, and he started feeling angry. This was his dad? And this was how he reacted to his son starting university? He ought to be proud!

"And pray tell how you intend to pay for tuition? Judging by this place, in this neighborhood, you can't have an actual job." His father's tone was cold and patronizing.

Sebastian straightened his shoulders. "I do. I have two jobs. I can pay for tuition myself. I don't need you or your money."

"Sebastian, please. Don't fool yourself. What self-respecting company would hire you? Look at you. I shudder to think about what you do for money."

Kurt had heard enough. He pulled up his jeans and quickly grabbed a jacket, shrugging it on over his naked chest. He didn't know if anything he could say would make this better, but in his opinion, it couldn't get much worse.

He walked to the door to look at the man Sebastian was related to. He was wearing a well-cut suit and the facial similarities were striking. Yet where Sebastian's eyes were a soft green, his were a cold steel blue, and his mouth was twisted into a sneer.

"Ah, I see," Mr Smythe said, smiling humorlessly as he looked Kurt up and down. "Did I interrupt a performance review?"

He reached for his pocket and pulled out a chequebook. Scribbling something down, he mumbled: "Alright. I'm offering you two hundred dollars to pack your things and get out of here. I'm sure that more than compensates whatever your usual fees are." He held out a cheque.

Kurt scoffed. "I can't believe such as asshole as you ever fathered such a wonderful son. Sebastian is my boyfriend, not my pimp. And he will be attending NYU whether you like it or not."

Sebastian's father raised his eyebrows.

Kurt hated how it made him look like a twisted version of his son when he did that. He wished Mr Smythe and Sebastian had nothing in common.

The man pocketed his chequebook and the cheque. "Boyfriend? Really? Well, in that case, let me introduce myself properly. My name is Edward Smythe, and as you may have gathered, I am Sebastian's father. Are you are?" He stuck out his hand.

"You don't have to-" Sebastian started, but Kurt shook his head. He took the offered hand.

"Kurt Hummel. I'd say it's a pleasure, but it isn't."

"Hummel? Huh. Congressman Hummel's gay son he keeps preaching on about?"

Kurt raised his chin.

Mr Smythe made a face of reluctant approval. "Well, at least my son has learned to sleep up in the world. Hummel. I can't say we share the same political agenda."

"I daresay you don't," Kurt replied. "Which will eventually put you on the losing team in history. Now, seeing as you came here without an invitation and are clearly not wanted, I kindly ask you to leave before we call the police."

Sebastian's father scoffed. "I am allowed to speak to my own son," he protested.

"And we've heard what you had to say. Goodbye Mr Smythe," Kurt said, taking Sebastian's hand and squeezing it comfortingly. Sebastian squeezed back.

"Bye father. Give mother my regards," Sebastian added, and started to close the door.

"Sebastian, if you close this door, I swear to you-"

Sebastian slammed it shut and the sound of his father's voice was cut off. He looked at Kurt.

"I had hoped you'd never have to see that," he said quietly, as his father pounded on the door. Kurt shook his head.

"It's okay. It explains a lot." He pulled Sebastian closer and kissed his lips.

Sebastian sighed.

"I wish I could close the door on him forever," he said. "But he'll always be there, reminding me of everything, telling me I put shame to the Smythe family... I wish I could just...change my name and move away from here so he could never find me again."

Kurt looked at him and smiled softly. "Ask me again after NYADA."

Sebastian looked at him for a moment before he realized what his boyfriend meant. He smiled hesitantly. "I'll... keep that option in mind," he said.

Kurt nodded. Then he looked down Sebastian's chest. "We have unfinished business," he stated.

Sebastian swallowed. The conversation with his dad had completely ruined his mood, but the look Kurt was giving him was reminding him of what they had been doing before they were interrupted.

"Yes. Let's do something about that."

THE END :)

This was my first Glee fic, written during the Glee winter hiatus in November 2012 for Nanowrimo. It was originally posted on . In 2016, I decided to migrate it to AO3 without editing - as of 2019, it had been edited and reformatted for easier reading.

This fic is more 'Blaine positive' as I would write it now, as a bitter Kurt-stan after s5-6. Still, Kurt's POV and rose-tinted specs about his 'Teenage Dream' do feel in-character for his high school time.