[Kurtbastian] Be My Mirror (~2K Words)
a christmas gift for nora! \o/
vampire!kurtbastian inspired by this post; friends becoming more ^o^
cw alcohol consumption, references to sex i guess, vampire stuff and my struggle to break from realism makes an appearance or two
“Sebastian, can I ask you a question? And without you laughing at me.”
The addressed man turns his head a bit, clearly with a witty comeback in store, but when he sees Kurt’s face, his face softens. “Sure. What is the query to which only I can grant you an accurate answer?”
They are sitting on the floor, leaning against the front of the couch. Each of the men are slightly tipsy, but don’t plan to stop drinking just yet.
“’Bas,” Kurt says, rolling his eyes at the other man. It’s clear he isn’t in the mood for Sebastian’s mockery.
“Alright, alright,” Sebastian relents. He holds his hands up in surrender, his right hand’s thumb and index finger securing a bottle of beer. “Tell me.”
Kurt rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, a sign that Sebastian long ago translated to anxiety. It pains Sebastian that Kurt still feels insecure about some things in his presence. God knows that Sebastian has tried moulding Kurt into a Sebastian 2.0., but tragically that experiment failed about two decades ago. (Apparently Kurt has a bit humanity left in his empty veins.)
But it’s not like Kurt isn’t snarky and sometimes even mean. That happens—a lot, in fact, because Kurt tires of Sebastian’s games. Despite that, Kurt still has his nice sides, and Sebastian secretly admires that trait. Although that is strictly kept a secret, because Sebastian has a reputation to uphold among their community.
Not to mention that Sebastian has problems with expressing his (positive) emotions.
“What do I look like?” Kurt asks then, watching as Sebastian takes a sip from the beer. “I mean, I guess I look like I did while I was human, but—“
“You still have your pretty gayface, if that’s what you’re asking,” Sebastian interjects between sips.
Kurt sighs. “No. What I’m asking is for you to describe me. I barely remember my time as human. What makes you think I remember what I looked like? I barely even remember my father, much less my mother. Please, ‘Bas, I just want to know.” His tone fell into pleading.
Silence answers Kurt, and never has silence been as deafening before. It isn’t uncomfortable, but it does make Kurt fidget his hem a little. And he drinks half of the glass of wine he had poured himself earlier.
Sebastian takes his time to answer. The slow sips are agonising, and Kurt can’t help but watch the movement of Sebastian’s throat. Then a sigh puffs from his lips, and Sebastian puts the now empty bottle on the floor.
He leans his head back on the couch seat and looks up at the ceiling, baring his pale throat, the Adam’s apple bulging a bit.
“Your hair hasn’t changed the slightest. Well, your hairstyle has,” Sebastian adds hastily, glancing at Kurt as he grabs another beer. “But that probably has to do with the fact you can’t see yourself in the mirror.”
Kurt stays silent and watches as the other man pops open another beer with his teeth and gulps down the beverage.
“Your skin is—well, I think it’s even paler than your human skin-tone. I guess that has to do with the lack of blood in your veins. Then it’s your eyes. I like to think that your eyes mirror the universe,” Sebastian says quietly, as though he wants to stop himself from talking, but his mouth keeps on moving. “Especially when you’re hungry. Your eyes gleam red, and it looks like the universe is burning up.”
“Your eyes just turn golden red,” Kurt comments with a hum. “When you’re hungry, I mean.”
“Well, I never starve myself until I have no choice but to feed,” Sebastian replies with an exasperated eye-roll. “Speaking of which, your teeth have grown,” he says with a smirk. As result, he has to dodge Kurt’s playful swat. “And your sense of fashion is still the pulchritude of the day, Your Highness.”
“Good save,” Kurt says approvingly. “Also thank you,” he says, this with a haughty sniff.
“Anything else?” Sebastian asks, leading them back to the original subject. Kurt hesitates for a moment, then shakes his head. “May I ask why this was such an important question to you?”
“Would you respect my word if I said no?”
“No.”
“Figures,” Kurt says with a sigh. He sips on his wine in deep thought. “I guess it’s partially because I really care about how I look. One thing I remember about being human is being teased relentlessly about my physique and appearance. But what I really am lugubrious about is, I can’t remember my mother or my father. I struggle to remember the colour of their eyes, their hair, and even their facial structures from different angles. All I have are these small, pasty photographs, and they are either from the front or on their profiles. I just thought I’d be able to recall them with refreshed memories if you could—well—describe me.”
And if that isn’t the most dramatic and depressing thing Sebastian has heard in circa forty years.
“Hand me these pictures of yours,” Sebastian tells Kurt. When the other doesn’t comply, Sebastian merely raises a brow. “To compare with,” he clarifies.
“Oh,” Kurt breathes out, and then hurries to pull his locket from his undershirt and gingerly hands it over to Sebastian. “Please be careful,” he adds unnecessarily. By now, he knows that Sebastian isn’t as malicious as he makes others believe.
Sebastian and Kurt both take sips from their respective drinks. Sebastian’s thumb brushes over the locket. It has the simple form of a heart, and with a practiced ease, he opens it. The inside reveals a picture of a woman and a man on respective sides, but none from profile.
“I have the other photographs in a book back at home,” Kurt explains the unasked question. “It’s clumsier walking around with it.”
Sebastian hums in response as he focuses on the pictures. “You have your father’s facial structure, apart from the cheek bones. I think your mother takes appearance on that front,” he says. “Your hairline definitely comes from your father, but your nose is your mother’s. So are your lips.”
Both men subconsciously lick their lips at that additional comment.
Then Kurt asks, “Who do I look most alike?”
And to be honest, Sebastian isn’t sure. Kurt carries traits from both his parents, but it is not entirely untrue to say that he also looks nothing like them. (And it has nothing to do with his being a vampire.)
“I can’t say,” Sebastian replies, closing the locket and hands it over to Kurt. He pretends he doesn’t see Kurt’s face fall ever so slightly, but a surge at his heart forces him to continue. “You look like both of them, but at the same time you look nothing like them. You have a bit of a feminine face, but looking closely, your facial structure is more like your father’s. Who, for the record, looks like hadn’t a single feminine gene. But your mother’s traits are an admixture to your father’s and it’s impossible to say who you’ve taken after the most.”
When Sebastian finishes, he finishes the beer. Kurt finishes his wine in silence.
Sebastian doesn’t want to be the first to speak, nor the one to hurt Kurt, but it is starting to get harder to control his emotions, yet he longs for another beer to fill his veins. He wants to get drunk out of his mind, like he used to get back in the days, and he wants Kurt to realise his feelings. Yet all his emotions create a ball of incoherent words and phrases. He hates being this non-verbal, and more so he despises emotions.
He turned that mechanism off ages back, when he accidentally fed off a human for too long and consequently killed him.
“Thanks,” Kurt speaks up some minutes later. It takes Sebastian by surprise, and he nearly jerks away from Kurt’s side. “For telling me. And for being honest.”
“No problem,” Sebastian croaks out and pops open yet another beer.
“Are you really drinking that too?” Kurt asks. He doesn’t sound disapproving, but curious. “I mean, you do remember that we get drunk much easier than when we were humans.”
“’Course,” Sebastian says, his tongue suddenly feeling quite heavy. He frowns at that. “I just really wanna feel and not feel.”
Kurt snorts. “That doesn’t even make any sense.”
“Yes, it does,” Sebastian counters stubbornly. “Because I don’t really feel when I’m drunk. Even though my emotions are very much enhanced, they are also dulled because I don’t think too much. And that’s why I wanna feel. Because my thoughts don’t come with them. The emotions, I mean,” Sebastian explains, drinking from his beer between his sentences. He isn’t exactly drunk yet. He just spills the words he has kept secretive.
God, will he kill himself when he wakes up in the morning. Unless he dies from alcohol intoxication before that, which would be embarrassing because he’s only had a couple of beers.
“So what is it you wanna feel but not feel?” Kurt asks, pouring himself more wine.
Sebastian hums for a moment. “Love,” he decides, and a part of his brain rages at him.
“Oh?” Kurt manages out. “Love, did you say?” he clarifies, not certain whether he had misheard the other.
“Yeah,” Sebastian says. “It’s a weird feeling. You either love being in love or you hate it.”
Kurt pouts his lip in thought. “That is true,” he agrees then and brings the glass to his lips. “And who is it that is responsible for your emotional rollercoaster?” Kurt asks before drinking.
“He’s sitting right beside me,” Sebastian blurts out, then he puts his hand over his mouth. “Damn.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Kurt says with a small smile tugging his lips. He laughs when he sees Sebastian’s surprised face. “I think ‘Bingo’ is a more suitable word.”
“You mean—“
“I’ve waited for you to show the slightest emotion,” Kurt chides the other, poking him by the shoulder. “I can never be certain with you, for you either treat me like dirt or like I am king of your world.”
“Well,” Sebastian says, his breath slightly short. “I think you are the king of my world. Although, I wouldn’t mind getting you dirty.”
“You are so silly when drunk,” Kurt says, but he puts down his glass on the floor so he can turn to his side and properly face Sebastian. “But I really want to kiss you.”
“Kisses and cuddles then sex?” Sebastian asks. They are so close that their noses touch and they exchange breaths.
“We’d have to feed before sex.” With an eye-roll, Kurt brings their cheeks together in a gentle hug. “Unless you can get an erection without blood.”
“Cons of being a vampire,” Sebastian groans at the reminder, but chases after Kurt’s lips. “Then I shall stay satisfied with kisses.”
Kurt turns his face so their lips meet.
“One thing I really love about you,” Kurt says against Sebastian’s lips, “is that you express everything through your lips. If you’re teasing, if your angry, and if you are in love—“
Sebastian silences Kurt with a harder kiss. “No. No time for cheese.”
“You have called me ‘Your Highness’ and ‘king of your world’ within ten minutes,” Kurt reminds Sebastian. “If I say it is time for cheese, then it is time for cheese.”
Sebastian groans and pulls away. “That was not how I’d imagined our first kiss going,” he pouts.
“Don’t be sillier than you already are,” Kurt says, laughing at Sebastian’s disappointed expression. “Suffice to say, I’ll make it up to you in the bedroom. Now, give me more kisses and I’ll promise to stay silent.”
“Good,” Sebastian nearly growls and pushes Kurt down to the floor, spilling their beer and wine. “Because I want to devour you right now. Kiss you endlessly.” He slips his left hand into Kurt’s right and tightens his grip around it. “And then you’ll be my mirror. Tell me how I look when I look happy.” Then he presses his lips against Kurt’s.
* FIN.
