Morning Coffee || Kurtbastian
Sebastian liked coffee. Liked the taste of it, bitter on his tongue, had never really enjoyed adding anything to it unless it was to increase the burn in the back of his throat. But he barely noticed the taste from the cup in front of him as he waited. Waited for one Kurt Hummel. He wondered, not for the first time, why he’d accepted the offer a coffee. He rationalised that he and Kurt were friends. There was no reason to turn down a morning with someone he liked.
But therein lay the problem.
Because Kurt liked someone, and that someone was a tenor with blue eyes. There were only so many of those. It could be Sebastian. Perhaps worst of all; Sebastian wanted it to be him. He picked strips aimlessly at his croissant without eating them. What would he do if it was him? Nothing, probably. Kurt had expressed his distate for causal sex more than a few times since they’d started to talk regularly. And Sebastian Smythe didn’t date. Still, the idea of it being somebody else that Kurt had found himself infatuated with was even more bitter than the coffee.
He didn’t have a solution, though, so he just decimated the pastry in front of him while he waited.
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