A/N: Written for the anon prompt - "If you sing that Christmas carol one more time…" and inspired by the Klaine Advent Drabble prompt 'scarf'. Warning for language, bondage, minor anxiety, and mention of a lap dance.
"Good King Wenceslas looked out, on the feast of Stephen, when the snow lay round about, deep and crisp and even. Brightly shown…"
"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel!" Sebastian roars, claw hands clamped over his ears, stomping through the doorway from the kitchen to where Kurt is putting the finishing touches on their family room. "If you sing that Goddamned Christmas carol one more fucking time, I am going to rip that garland off the mantel and strangle you with it!"
The room becomes instantly silent, the offensive carol dying somewhere between Kurt's throat and his mouth. He turns to his fiancé, jaw hanging open in shock from Sebastian's unexpected outburst. Kurt stares at Sebastian, flummoxed, at a complete and utter loss for something to say. Instead, he puts down his end of the red shiny garland he's been hanging and walks quietly from the room, eyes focused straight ahead, not sparing Sebastian a single glance. Sebastian listens to Kurt's footsteps retreat down the hallway. Sebastian winces when he hears the door to the bedroom slam shut and lock.
Sebastian sighs, standing in a partially decorated family room, completely alone, knowing he would pay for this later.
For the moment, he doesn't care. The reign of the dreadful Christmas carol has ended, and Sebastian soaks in the blissful silence.
It had started at six – six o'clock in the motherfucking morning – though at the time, it didn't bother Sebastian one bit. He enjoyed being serenaded awake by Kurt's singularly beautiful voice. And he wasn't opposed to Good King Wenceslas. He knew it was Kurt's favorite Christmas carol. They were home together on a Thursday to decorate for guests coming over Friday night, and Sebastian wasn't about to deny Kurt anything.
Except the song didn't stop.
"Good King Wenceslas looked out…"
Not after breakfast.
"On the feast of Stephen…"
Not in the shower.
"When the snow lay round about…"
Not after the tree Sebastian ordered had arrived.
"Deep and crisp and even…"
Not as they began to decorate.
"Brightly shown the moon that night…"
Not after Kurt' father called.
"Though the frost was cruel…"
Not during lunch.
"When a poor man came in sight, gath'ring winter fuel…"
Soon, that carol was all Sebastian could hear, and even Kurt's dulcet tones couldn't make it palatable any longer.
"Good King Wenceslas looked out, on the feast of Stephen, when the snow lay round about, deep and crisp and even. Brightly shown the moon that night, though the frost was cruel, when a poor man came in sight, gath'ring winter fuel…" followed him all over the penthouse. Even when he locked himself in the master bathroom to collect his thoughts, they were full of a king and his page trudging through the snow to stalk some poor old guy and give him food. Obviously this king knew nothing about welfare. It wasn't as if the guy wasn't going to be poor every other day of the year…
Once Sebastian started debating the man's economic relief policy, he knew he was about to snap.
Which led to the outburst.
Sebastian had had every intention of asking Kurt nicely to switch songs, but as he approached the family room and heard the song drilling into his skull, wearing away at the soft tissue of his brain, something inside him didn't want to do nice.
It wanted to drive its point home by making over-the-top, outlandish threats.
That's exactly what he had done, and now, Kurt probably won't speak to him again until after Christmas.
That sucks because Sebastian has the greatest gift planned.
The quiet around him ceases to be soothing and slowly turns eerie. There's no noise in the penthouse - no talking, no music, nothing that he can hear - and he's not enjoying it, partially because he's waiting for the hammer to drop and the payback to start, but mostly because this day is supposed to be spent with his fiancé. That's why he took the day off. It wouldn't be the same decorating without Kurt.
Sebastian knows he has to take the first step. He has to suck it up and apologize. Even if that fucking song makes him miserable, he'd put up listening to it for no matter how many hours to be with Kurt.
Sebastian swallows, not looking forward to the bitch-fest that's about to be unleashed, but he tries to look at the bright side.
The make-up sex after this should be phenomenal.
"Kurt?" Sebastian calls as he walks to the bedroom door. "Kurt, babe, come on out and talk to me." He reaches the door and puts his ear to the wood.
"Kurt? Honey?" he continues calling, knocking in case Kurt had decided to take a bubble bath. "Kurt, I'm…"
Say you're sorry. Say you're sorry.
Nope. Can't do it.
"I don't mind the singing," he says instead. "And that carol? I'll listen to it for the rest of the day if that's what you want. Just, open the door so we can get back to..."
The door creaks open before Sebastian can finish and Kurt stands before him, changed out of his slouchy, oversized sweater and yoga pants into a tight, tight, tight pair of dark blue jeans and an aubergine button down shirt – unbuttoned, untucked, with a black mesh tank underneath.
"Uh…" Sebastian says, watching Kurt smirk as he takes in his fiancé's reaction to his new outfit, "does this mean that I'm forgiven?"
"Maybe," Kurt says with a one-shoulder shrug, looping a red silk scarf around Sebastian's neck and pulling him inside the room. "I thought maybe we could discuss our musical differences somewhere a bit more comfortable…and with a few less clothes." Kurt leads Sebastian over to a Victorian wingback chair and sits him down. Sebastian watches while Kurt secures his wrists, and then his ankles, to the frame of the chair with similar silk scarves, each in a different color. Kurt looks up into Sebastian's eyes with a scintillating and seductive smile as he secures the final knot. Kurt stands and Sebastian tugs on the bindings to make sure he's completely immobilized.
"How does that feel, baby?" Kurt asks, climbing up onto the chair and sliding into Sebastian's lap. "Do you think you can get out of those?"
"I don't think so," Sebastian replies, growling as Kurt starts to unbutton Sebastian's jeans.
"Good," Kurt says, kneeling up to whisper in his fiancé's ear. "Why don't I put on some music to get us in the mood?"
"Ooo," Sebastian coos, knowing that tied up with mood music means lap dance, and Sebastian can hardly wait. "What were you thinking, babe? Adam Lambert? Lady Gaga?"
"I was thinking something a little more traditional," Kurt responds with a sly grin, He pulls the remote for the BOSE stereo out of his back pocket, points it in a vague direction, and hits the play button.
"Like The Stripper?" Sebastian asks with a laugh. "Now that's really going old school."
"Older than that," Kurt says, standing from Sebastian's lap, tossing the remote aside, and letting his button down shirt slip from his shoulders.
"Older than…" The first few notes of music fill the air from the surround sound speakers in the room and Sebastian stops.
How did he not see this coming?
"Kurt," Sebastian says to his suddenly stern-faced fiancé as the sound of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir singing Good King Wenceslas blasts throughout the room, "Kurt, this isn't funny."
"Do you mean it's not threatening-to-strangle-your-fiancé-with-garland funny?" Kurt asks, turning on his heel and storming from the room.
"Kurt?" Sebastian calls. "Kurt?" Sebastian pulls hard on his bindings again, the knots tightening when he struggles. "You are going to untie me, right? Kurt? KURT!"
Kurt returns for a second and peeks in at Sebastian, still tied to the chair, then closes the bedroom door and walks away singing, "Brightly shown the moon that night…"