While I'm still working on the sequel for The Danger Inside Of You (35 000 words so far, so hold on to your bobby socks), I came across this prompt at the GKM (glee-kink-meme . livejournal . com / 28110 . html?thread=33472462#t33472462) and as a recently converted Kurtbastian shipper I couldn't resist. And yes, I'm aware of the irony of this happening during Klaine-week, of all times.
The title is a fragment from "Together again" by Janet Jackson. I'm estimating this will be around 4-5000 words in total, of which about half is written at this point, and the idea is to have fairly quick updates, but it'll depend in large part on how well writing goes tomorrow. Either way, I hope you enjoy!
As usual, it is unbeta'd. I will never be ashamed to admit I love feedback, and concrit is always welcomed!
Disclaimer: All characters and places in this story which are part of Glee belong to their respective owners. Since I don't make money with this story, I call upon Fair Use to bring them into my own little verse.
The first time they met was in a flurry of needles and fabric, costume fittings and last-minute adjustments. Later, Sebastian swore they locked eyes the moment Kurt entered the room, although Kurt maintained he had no recollection of any such thing, didn't even remember seeing Sebastian when he walked into the foyer that day.
Over 20 people had shown up but Kurt only needed five, and he didn't waste time having them walk or even gauging their faces - any guy who made it to the final round was sure to have mastered a perfect strut, and the hair and make-up department would take care of the rest. No, what Kurt was looking for was a body that would display his clothes the best they could be, because if there was one thing he had learned from working in fashion for over a decade now, it was that it wasn't the clothes that made the model look good - it was the model that made the clothes look fabulous.
"You, you. You," he said, pointing at each guy in turn. "You and you. The rest can go home, thank you for your time."
He ignored the grumbled noises of disappointment from those whose luck had run out that day, ushering his five chosen models to the fitting rooms instead. The show was less than a week away and he didn't have the time nor the patience to deal with anything that wasn't directly related to it.
"Johnsson," he said, eternally grateful for the name tags each of them was wearing, "you take outfits 45 and 16. Back row. Lovejoy, 38. Kulani, 23, 41, 62. Ask someone to assist you with the jacket of 41 - if I see so much as one buckle out of place I'll kill you. Bing, 12, 33, 49, 51. Smythe -"
The voice was soft but determined, much like the look Kurt was met with when he looked up - and froze. Like most models, the guy had a couple of inches on Kurt, his short brown hair styled in that just-out-of-bed look Kurt could never quite resist. But that wasn't what had made his heart stop - it was the man's eyes, greyish green and piercing, looking straight at Kurt as if he was the only thing they were seeing, the only thing they wantedto see, and Kurt had to forcibly shake himself out of his reverie. He didn't have time for this, not now.
"Smythe," he repeated, looking back at his papers, determined not to lose focus. "4, 25, 69. You've got five minutes."
Usually, Kurt didn't like it when models were talking during fitting. Firstly, it was horribly distracting, and secondly, they never managed to keep still when they talked. Sebastian -Smythe, he corrected himself-, however, seemed to have elevated standing still to an art form, and Kurt quickly discovered it was much more distracting to try to get him to shut up than it was to just let him talk.
"Turn around," he said, interrupting yet another story, and Sebastian shot him a mock-offended look.
"You're pretty bossy for a costume fitter, you know that?"
"You're pretty talkative for someone whose job it is to just shut up and walk, you know that?" Kurt retorted, actually offended Sebastian would think that's all he was. "And I'll have you know I actually designed these outfits, thank you very much."
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I kinda stopped listening after 'you're pretty'."
Kurt glanced up, intending to shoot Sebastian an unimpressed glare, but when he saw the twinkle in the other man's eyes he couldn't help but smile back.
"False modesty doesn't suit you," he said, turning his attention back to the sleeve he was fixing. "You're a model, you know you're pretty."
"Being a model merely means I conform to society's idea of beauty. It's nice to hear you agree, though," Sebastian said, sounding oddly amused.
"I never said I agreed," Kurt shot back, "I said you were fishing for compliments."
"I was the first guy you picked out of a room filled with 30 hotties. I don't need to fish for anything."
This time, Kurt did glare, even if only because he didn't know if what Sebastian was claiming was actually true.
"There were only 20 guys there, 25 tops."
"The point still stands."
Sebastian let out a yelp, squinting at Kurt.
"Sorry... ," Kurt smiled back innocently, holding up a needle. "Next time don't move."
Kurt could see Sebastian bit back a retort, finally deciding on just looking straight ahead, leaving Kurt to hum softly to himself as he finished the sleeve.
"Done," he said five minutes later. "Go give these to Anita and then you can go home for today. I expect you tomorrow at 7am for the second fit."
He stepped back to give Sebastian space to step down from the stool he'd been standing on, but instead of walking out as he'd been told to do, he simply stopped right in front of Kurt.
"How about I expect you tonight at 7pm for a first date?"
It was by far the bluntest anyone had ever asked Kurt out, and he simply stared at Sebastian.
"Go out with me."
Kurt had been hit on before - of course he'd been hit on before: he worked in fashion, where the usual one in ten ratio of gay to straight people was reversed and testosterone levels exceeded the highest of ambitions on any given day. His own insecurities aside he had quickly discovered there was quite a number of people who liked his type - thought he was pretty, hot, even. But in a place where competition was so stiff, envy was never far away, and Kurt had learned that lesson the hard way.
"I don't go out with people I work with," he said, slightly uncomfortable.
But Sebastian wasn't discouraged in the least.
"Then I quit," he said, simply, shoving a paper in Kurt's hands before he walked away backwards, pointing at the paper. "Call me!"