Kurtbastian Week 2020 - “War of the Roses” (Rated M)
Summary: Kurt suspects that his husband may be cheating on him. But instead of taking the mature route of talking with him, he calls up a radio talk show that has a unique way of uncovering the truth. (2236 words)
Notes: Inspired by a talk show I used to listen to by the same name. Written for the @kbweek2020 Day 5 prompt 'angst', but not quite as angsty as you might imagine.
Read on AO3.
“War, War, War, War of the Roses!”
The pre-recorded announcement, surrounded by loud fanfare, blares through Kurt’s phone. He moves it away from his ear before the d.j. follows with: “It’s War of the Roses day on Magic 92.5! Hop on the website, send us a text, or call and leave us a message, and you, too, may be featured on War of the Roses! Today, we have Kurt on the line, ready to share the troubling story of him and his husband Sebastian. Kurt - thank you for joining us.”
“Th-thank you for having me,” Kurt replies, hating the way his voice sounds, the way it rattles around his dry throat. Hating what he’s doing. Hating that he gave the show their real names! What an imbecile he is! People he knows listen to this show! His boss Isabelle listens to this show! She must be listening now because he hears a beep over the line - a sign that another call is trying to wedge its way in. When he doesn’t answer it, it disconnects with a chunky bwap-bwap! A second later, messages start flooding his email, which he left open on the laptop in front of him. And not just from Isabelle. From Rachel, Mercedes, Santana, Brittany, Chase …
Kurt lifts a hand and closes the lid, shutting them out.
Oh boy.
He’s only been on the phone for 30 seconds and he’s already made a mess of things.
“Kurt,” the d.j. says, “why don’t you start by telling us why you contacted us? How can we help you?”
Kurt sighs. I contacted you because I’m stupid, he thinks. And insecure. And, frankly, I should hang up right now and put my phone in the freezer for safekeeping before I do anything else stupid. “I … I think my husband might be cheating on me.”
Canned ooo’ing follows his admission, and if he didn’t regret this decision before, he certainly regrets it now. He can’t stand the idea that they’re using this situation that’s been keeping him up at night as the punchline of a joke. But he can’t blame them. He did this. There are other ways to go about this that he should have considered first. Counseling. Private investigators. Honest and open communication with his spouse. But for some reason, when his husband got up early and left for work without waking Kurt for a goodbye kiss for the eighth day in a row, Kurt broke. If his marriage isn’t working, if they’re headed for Splitsville, Kurt needs to know today.
Now.
Sooner, if possible.
And that’s when he leaped for his cell phone and made this ill-advised call.
Kurt didn’t think there was anything wrong with his marriage. He thought they were happy – blissfully so. But for the past few days, things have gotten odd between them. Strained. And Kurt doesn’t know why. He needs to find out.
Lucky for him (depending on how you look at it), the radio program had a last-minute cancellation. The person who was scheduled to be on this morning decided to take matters into their own hands and run their unfaithful spouse over with a Cadillac.
A Cadillac that wasn’t theirs to begin with.
The station called him practically a second after he got off the phone with their answering machine.
“And why do you think your husband might be cheating on you?” the female co-host asks in a voice sympathetic from years of practice.
“Well … he’s been avoiding me.” Kurt winces at that weak excuse. To be fair, Sebastian’s firm recently landed a huge client - their first of this caliber in years. And since one of his partners is out on maternity leave, the job of wining and dining had fallen on Sebastian’s shoulders - a task he hasn’t performed in close to a decade; one he never liked much, especially after he and Kurt got married since it kept him away from home. “But on top of that,” he says, leaving that pertinent information out, “he’s been talking a lot about some guy named Martin.”
“Really?” the d.j. says, working hard to make this revelation sound like the scandal of the century since Kurt isn’t giving them much to work with. “And what has he been saying about Martin?”
“He’s been very complimentary about the job Martin has been doing down at the office.” Another wince. “A-and my husband isn’t normally the kind to hand out compliments. Plus, they’ve been working a lot of late nights - meetings, overtime, all last minute, that sort of thing.”
“Do you think Martin is doing something other than working that your husband might actually be complimenting him on?”
“Maybe,” Kurt says meekly, his heart going from ache to break. He hadn’t put those thoughts into words before today, hadn’t even texted them to his closest confidants now crowding his inbox. This is the first time he’s getting it off his chest … and he’s doing it to millions of people he doesn’t know.
He can hear Sebastian's voice in his head, laughing and saying, "Smart, Kurt. Very smart."
“Alright! Let’s get Sebastian on the phone and find out what’s going on once and for all!”
“Okay,” Kurt mumbles, covering the fact that the host's apparent enthusiasm to destroy Kurt's life put him on the verge of throwing up.
“What we’re going to do (for those of you who don’t know how this works) is offer Sebastian a dozen romantic roses to send free of charge to the person of his choice," the d.j. explains.
"Let’s hope he says Kurt,” his co-host adds.
“Yes,” Kurt says, and very unlike him, he begins to pray.
He prays Sebastian doesn’t answer the phone.
He prays Sebastian's secretary answers instead and tells them to send the roses to Kurt, Sebastian’s one true love. Kurt would accept that, hearing it second hand. That would be fine. Hearing it from Sebastian's secretary would be almost like hearing it from Sebastian. She’s a trustworthy soul, not inclined to cover for her boss.
He thinks.
Most of all, he prays that no matter who answers, no matter what happens, he’s wrong.
Ring-ring.
Ring-ring.
Ring-ring.
Click.
“Hello?”
Sebastian answers and Kurt’s stomach drops. In the time it takes Sebastian to complete that word, Kurt recalls the way most of these things end. Then his mind, which rarely seems to be on his side lately, conjures up how it might end for them.
This phone call and their entire marriage.
“Let’s get a name for the card, Sebastian. Who would you like us to send those roses to?”
“Let’s send them to Martin,” Kurt imagines his husband saying in a sly, seductive voice without pause.
“Martin? And what message would you like to go with it?”
“Make it out to Captain Flexible. And write ‘last night was incredible. Here’s to many more late nights in the future’.”
That nightmare spell shatters when Kurt hears the d.j. say his husband's name. “Sebastian?”
“Yes?” Sebastian answers, already sounding annoyed. No one who calls Sebastian’s office line ever calls him by his first name except family.
And Kurt.
“Hello! My name is Andrew, and I’ve just opened a new flower shop in Uptown called The Rose Knows.”
“Good for you,” Sebastian says dryly.
“We’re calling businesses in the Midtown area with our first promotion. We’re offering a free dozen romantic roses to send to the person of your choice. And all we ask in return is that you recommend our shop to your family, your friends, your co-workers …”
“You must have the wrong number. I don’t need anything for free. Put an ad in the Pennysaver like everyone else.”
"I'm not sure the Pennysaver's still in business."
"Not my problem."
Kurt bites his lower lip, grinning when he should be in tears, the nervous flip-flopping of his stomach, like pancakes on a griddle, causing his abs to cramp. But that’s his husband. His Sebastian.
So far, so good.
“Come on,” the d.j. presses. “We’re a small business, just starting out. Do a man a favor. Have some community spirit.”
Sebastian sighs like this is so beneath him. He stays quiet, and Kurt knows he’s debating between messing with this guy or hanging up on him. But Sebastian probably figures he’s not going to shake him until he gives in. Besides, Sebastian is nothing if not a networker. A flower shop would be of no use to him, but who knows? “Let’s see. Who in my life deserves free roses? My mom’s birthday is coming up, so maybe I could send them to her. Or my sister. She just had a baby.”
“Oh! Congrats!”
“A-ha,” Sebastian says, the amount of unimpressed in his tone staggering. “There’s Martin Lewis ...”
“Martin?” the d.j. repeats, stressing the name subtly to put emphasis on Kurt’s concerns.
He doesn’t need to. Kurt’s heart has already stopped.
“Yeah," Sebastian says, his voice going softer. "Roses would definitely brighten up his office.”
“And why does Martin deserve roses?”
“Not that it's any of your business, but he’s been busting his ass helping me put together a huge proposal. Plus, his wife's in the hospital. He could bring them over to her."
"O-oh ..." The d.j. slips. That's probably the last thing he expected to hear.
"Or you know what?” Sebastian's voice drops a register, a hint of wickedness lacing between. “I could send them to this guy I absolutely worship."
"Oh really?" The d.j. recovers, seeing things start to turn around. The hosts definitely root for a happy ending, but it's no surprise that angst makes their ratings soar.
The cringe-factor of someone confessing unaware to their infidelities.
Their listeners eat that up.
"Yup. The most amazing, sexiest man on the face of the planet. The man with the biggest heart of any human being I have ever met. The man I call the Energizer Bunny because he can go all. night. long. The man I hope to spend the rest of my life with.”
Kurt hiccups. His heart, a useless lump in his chest, lodges in his throat.
“And who would that---?” But before the d.j. can interject with their usual spiel, Sebastian continues.
“But I think he’s worth more than a bouquet I got for free from some lame-ass radio talk show. What do you think, Kurt?”
The line goes dead.
Kurt has been listening to this radio program religiously for close to seven years, and to his knowledge, this has never happened before - a caller called out by their s.o. But the d.j. is on it because he immediately plays an old school ‘wah-wah’ noise to show that Kurt has been caught.
“H-how did you know?” Kurt asks.
“Because I know you, Kurt,” Sebastian says. “I know the kinds of things you do when you panic, and you mostly panic when you feel like people you love are going to leave you.”
“Yeah?” Kurt sniffs, a tear rolling down his cheek. Adding to his list of things he hates, he hates that Sebastian knows him so well. “And what do I do?”
“You kind of go off the deep end.” Sebastian chuckles, lighthearted and anxious, reminiscent of the night he asked Kurt to be his for the first time. “And I understand why. I’m sorry I’ve been distant lately. And I’m sorry about the late hours. I’ve just been caught up at work. I swear that’s all. But Kurt … can we talk about this when I get home? So I can look at you, in your eyes, and tell you that there’s no way in heaven or earth I would ever cheat on you? It took me a long time to win you over. There’s nothing that could persuade me to give you up, not for anyone.”
More sound effects - an awww followed by applause - play in the background as the d.j. and his co-host attempt to maintain control of the show.
“So … you don’t hate me?” Kurt asks.
“For which offense? Doubting me, my loyalty, and my love for you? Or airing our dirty laundry on the radio?”
“Uh …” Kurt awkwardly clears his throat. “All of the above?”
Sebastian sighs again. He sounds exhausted, but also like he can’t wait to get home and give Kurt a good ribbing. “Yes, babe. I forgive you.”
“Thanks. And I’m sorry about all this.”
“Apology accepted. I mean, what’re a few tawdry secrets among friends? Strangers? The barista down at Starbucks? My clients?”
“When should I expect you home?” Kurt rushes to cut him off, feeling more like a heel than he had before. “I know you have another big meeting and …”
“I’ll be home in about an hour. Wait … make that an hour and ten. I’m going to stop by a real flower shop and get you some roses. I think you’re overdue.”
“Really?” Kurt says, so astounded, so touched, he doesn’t hear the cheesy music the d.j. has started playing in the background.
“Yes, really. And Kurt?”
“Yes?”
“Be naked when I get there,” Sebastian growls.
The music stops, skidding to a halt with the sound of a record scratching. “Guys … uh … you’re still on the air.”
“Sorry not sorry there, champ,” Sebastian says and hangs up the call.
So does Kurt, shoving his phone in the freezer before the station tries to call back for a recap.
Hi folks, so this is something slightly different to our usual style but honestly my mind is not into writing a whole fic at the moment - not even oneshots. BUT I wanted to produce SOMETHING for @kbweek2020.
So we came up with this instead. (Under a cut bc it is a bit long)
Kurt is supposed to be the issue. He’s a priss, and a prude, and a problem for the Warblers that Sebastian will someday solve. Sebastian hasn’t paid him any more thought than that but now, watching Kurt shut down, he’s forced to.
Sebastian has a plan. He has the information he’s picked up from the others, and the handful of interactions he’s shared with them. None of this is part of it.
Neither of them noticed him leaving the club or listening in, and now he knows far too much about a moment he shouldn’t have witnessed.
Follows pt I, pt II, pt III, pt IV, pt V, part VI, pt VII, part VIII, part IX, part X, part XI, part XII and part XIII.
Posting this for day 3 (Dalton) of @kbweek2020, for reasons.
Benjamin Harris asks Kurt to call him Ben during their first meeting, and pencils him in for two sessions per week “for now”. Kurt doesn't know whether to be grateful that he's at a school where his mental health is considered so important or horrified that he's seen as needing that much help.
When he brings it up with Sebastian the answer is “grateful” and Kurt's pretty sure that it's the right one. It's just such a glaring difference from McKinley where the closest he'd gotten to an adult caring about his anything (in a positive way that was) was poor Miss Pillsbury.
And that's, that's just sad.
So he agrees to go to Ben's office every Monday and Wednesday, and he tries to talk, only he finds he's still skittish and wary.
Ben's good though, and finds a way around Kurt's defenses by suggesting that they bring in Finn for a few shared sessions, “to heal old wounds”. It's a good solution as that's something about being back at Dalton, and about boarding again, that Kurt isn't entirely pleased about. Not living at home means it's hard to be there for Finn (and to not having Finn be there for him). Sebastian is a good friend, but Finn's his brother. Kurt worries, okay?
Ben being sneaky and getting permission to have Finn come over for the first two weeks is an excellent solution.
(The only one who doesn't realize that half the reason is so Finn can get the help he needs but McKinley won't provide is Finn himself.)
Once Kurt begins to trust Ben – once he's seen that it's justified – talking gets easier. Telling him about everything that's lead to Kurt transferring to Dalton not just once but twice in a year in painful but also healing. Even if he sometimes hides from everyone afterwards just to deal with the sheer hurt of how little help he's ever been offered outside of his home and his dad's garage, and how much he could have thrived if he'd gotten this earlier.
The worst part is talking about Blaine.
Except, he has to, and maybe that's even worse.
So he makes an appointment late on a Friday, arranges for Finn to come pick him up, and then walks in with his back straight and his emotions tucked away as deep as possible.
He tells the whole story of him and Blaine, from that first meeting on the staircase all the way to the police station, with as little detail and emotion as he can get away with. He winces, once, because Ben shifts a little during the part about Scandals, and right, he worked here last year. It's possible, Kurt thinks, that not that long ago it was Blaine sitting in this very chair telling Ben about his circumstances.
When Kurt reaches the end he falls silent. He's a little hoarse, from talking so long, and he feels empty.
Ben's quiet too, at first. He sits there, then gets up to fetch Kurt a bottle of water and waits for him to drink some of it.
“That's...that's a lot you just told me, Kurt. And judging from what I've learned about you I'm guessing this is the first time you've talked about all of it like this?”
True. Kurt's talked, yes, with Finn and Sebastian and even his dad. Before Blaine's disappearance he'd talked to Rachel and Mercedes. But not like this. Not without hiding things, or editing them out. Not with honesty.
“All of this, everything that's happened with Blaine... How does it make you feel?”
“Angry. Pathetic. Weak. Stupid. So, so stupid.”
“Why stupid?”
“Because I trusted him. I've got trust issues from here to forever, and I just trusted him. All I had to go on was that Blaine was cute, and charismatic when performing, that he was willing to listen and seemed sympathetic, and that he was gay just like me. That he'd been bullied, like me. Or so he said.
“And I just took him at his word. Trusted him like a damned sheep. Without a single shred of evidence that he was worth it. I told him things I hadn't even thought about telling my dad – who was worth my trust – and things I didn't have the right to tell him, and for what? So things could get even worse?”
Ben takes a moment again, before asking his next question.
“Do you feel now that Blaine didn't deserve that trust? Not just in the end, but throughout your relationship, I mean.”
Kurt laughs, short and harsh and joyless.
“You know, I dream about it. Not, not about that night – or I do too, but those are, that's not dreams, that's... Anyway, no.
“I dream that it's an ordinary day, and I'm driving over to Blaine's house to surprise him for some reason. I don't know why, since Blaine specifically told me I was never to show up there without warning, and I respected that.”
He'd added two and two and come up with “Mr Anderson is a homophobic prick”, which may or may not be true, and also may or may not be the actual reason.
“Anyway. I drive over there, and I ring the doorbell, and when Mrs Anderson opens the door I ask for Blaine. Only she tells me there's no Blaine living there, there never was. And when I push her on it, she tells me that a boy paid them to pretend to be his family, but she doesn't know why, or where he really lives.”
Kurt swallows.
“And then I wake up, and I can't help but wonder, if I were to do my research, would I find an Anderson family at West Elm Street? And if I did, would the faces match the people I've met?”
“What do you mean?”
“Blaine and I dated for six months, and were friends for another six months before that. And somehow I never got to know his family. I haven't even seen a photo of Blaine's older brother. I've only ever met Mrs Anderson three times, and Mr Anderson twice. If it wasn't for the fact that they were at the police station, specifically as Blaine's parents – which, by the way, is one of those times – I don't know if I'd believe that's who they are. Hell, at my darkest moments I still question it.”
“Do you really believe he would fake something like that?”
Ben's voice doesn't hold mocking, or disbelief, just worry.
“No. Not really. As I said, they went to the police as Blaine's parents. That's not something you risk if it's fake. Besides, Lima's too small to pull something like that off.
“It's more that I find that I was such an unimportant piece of Blaine's life puzzle that I can't even trust something like that.”
They both sit quiet for a while. After all, what is there even to say about thoughts like those?
When Kurt returns to Dalton on Sunday evening Sebastian is leaning against his door, dangling a thermos-flask from one hand. It's both a welcome sight and not, seeing as Kurt had let slip about the nightmares during a check-in the day before. But. It's coffee, and it's Sebastian.
He's halfway through his cup before Sebastian grabs the bull by the horn.
“Do you want to talk about the nightmares?”
No, he most certainly does not. Not those anyway. Still...
“The ones about that night, no. But there are others. Sometimes I have nightmares where I come to school and instead of Blaine being gone, instead of me being called into Miss Pillsbury's office the next day to be met with the news that Blaine's gone... I go to my locker and he's there. And I forgive him. I just...ignore that he tried to rape me, and I forgive him. Even worse, I take the blame.
“And then I wake up shaking, knowing that I could so easily have done just that.”
“Kurt...” His name falls from Sebastian's lips with almost no sound, and it's so clear that the other boy wants to protest.
“No, I really could have. Right from the beginning everyone was so happy to let me know I was lucky to find Blaine, and some made it clear that they didn't think I'd ever be able to do better. Hell, my own experience made me believe that. So why would I have let him walk away? If he was the best I could get, then it was forgive him or spend my life alone.
“Talking to Ben has made me realize exactly how unhealthy that kind of thinking is, and how me folding about something like that would have impacted our entire relationship. He would always have known he could get away with just about anything, and I would never be able to stand up for myself because of the fear of being alone.”
Kurt shudders. Had those dreams been reality then he would never have felt safe denying Blaine sex again. He'd never have felt safe denying Blaine anything. You want that role I need? Of course. You want to move across the country? I'll start packing. You want me to quit my job and be a househusband? Yes dear.
He'd have become a doormat, and he'd have told everyone it was what he wanted while believing it was all he deserved.
Blaine leaving had hurt like hell, but Kurt's beginning to believe it had been a blessing.
“I think I might have dodged a bullet there.”
Sebastian scoffs.
“No shit. That's not a bullet though, that's ammunition for a small war.”
Kurt acknowledges the point. It's a bit of an overstatement, he thinks, but then again he went the other direction.
“Either way, he's out of my life, and he's not getting back in. That's a good thing. The same will be true about the nightmares, sooner or later. No, this isn't me pretending things are fine when they're not, this is me honestly believing it'll be fine. Talking to Ben helps.
“Having you helps.”
He watches amused as Sebastian blushes softly at the compliment while trying to play cocky. He likes it when Sebastian's facade breaks down. In fact, he might just have made it his mission to make it happen as often as possible.
“So, do you have any plans for the rest of the evening? Lacrosse equipment to clean? Lingering homework? No? What about that essay for Mme Lacroix?”
The panic in Sebastian's face as he jumps up is delicious.
“What essay? When did she– Oh, I see. Not funny, Hummel.”
“From where I'm sitting? Definitely funny, Smythe. But if there's nothing else you need to do, would you like to watch a movie with me? I've got some chocolate I don't mind sharing, and I'll even let you pick the movie.”
Sebastian looks at him suspiciously, searching for the next joke. Then he apparently decides that Kurt is serious.
“I could do that. Careful though, that almost sounded like you asking for a date.”
“Who said I wasn't?” Total deer in headlights look. “Would it be so bad? I like you. I think we are good together. I believe we could be even better. I trust you. Giving this, giving us, a chance feels smart. It feels right.”
Sebastian keeps staring at him, and Kurt feels himself begin to fidget a little, suddenly uncomfortable. Did he read the situation wrong? Then, finally, Sebastian speaks, voice a little raspy.
“Oh god. I thought you... Can I kiss you?”
There's a desperation in the words, but Kurt can't fault him for it. He feels it too. So he nods, and takes a step towards Sebastian. He's expecting... Well, he doesn't know what he's expecting. More of the desperation maybe? Expertise? Seduction? He definitely wasn't expecting careful softness, and constant checks for consent, but that's what he gets.
Then again, maybe that's exactly what he should have expected from Sebastian, who's been with him the whole way, who knows everything, and has shown himself to care in a way Kurt's not entirely used to to.
It's a Sebastian without masks and attitudes, meeting a Kurt without the same, and it's everything he could have wished for.
He's got no memory of what movie they finally play.
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After the musical ended, Sebastian opted to stay in his seat for a few minutes , letting the crowd thin out about before he made his way out of the auditorium. Suddenly Kurt was leaning in from behind and saying something to him, but he thought he misunderstood what Kurt said because it didn't make any sense.
He turned his head, looking over his shoulder, trying to figure out what was going on. "He's what?" Sebastian practically scowled. "I don't understand."
Kurt spoke relatively quietly. "He's all yours, Sebastian. I broke up with him. He's a free agent."
"Wait, what?"
"Are you hard of hearing?" Kurt spoke more slowly, but didn't raise his voice. "Blaine is available."
"I'm so lost. Two days ago, you were hanging onto him like he was the last life raft on a sinking ship."
"Well, the ship sank and I didn't drown." Kurt got up and left quickly.
Sebastian stayed seated and waited like he had been. He was still confused but eventually the auditorium was almost empty, so he got up and headed outside. As he got closer to his car he saw Blaine leaning against it, still in his stage make up.
He called out, "Hey, Killer. What's up? You did a pretty good job tonight."
"Thanks. I had a lot on my mind. I'll do better tomorrow. You want to come over to my place?"
"Yeah, sure. I was just going to go to Scandals for a while."
"You can crash at my place."
"Your parents aren't home?"
"Nope."
"Sounds good to me. I'll follow you to your place. We'll change and go in my car."
