[ Kurt is still a little starstruck the morning after. Who wouldn't be, if they found out the charming guy they'd been chatting with over an eDating site was actually Aaron Echolls? And while he knew better than to meet him on private property, one thing had unexpectedly lead to another and now he was smack bang in the middle of the Echolls family mansion, pictures of Aaron with other celebrities adorning the walls, everything huge and gleaming like it was straight out of a catalogue.
Kurt feels out of place amidst all this magazine perfection. He's tired, sticky, and sex rumpled, and there's an unpleasant taste at the back of his mouth that tells him he had way too much to drink last night. Which explains the whole thing where he went home with the guy on the first date.
First things first: the note from Aaron says to make himself at home and get housekeeping to call him a taxi when he wants to leave — like this is a hotel and not a home. So Kurt takes a brief shower, knowing he can't do much more than rinse without his wall to wall boutique of skin and hair care products, and then he dresses in last night's outfit, crumpled but still fabulous, applies chapstick, finger combs his hair, sighs at the wan, pale face looking back from the mirror.
He needs caffeine and maybe som vit C before he'll be fully functional, though, so he makes his way out to the kitchen and studies the gigantic espresso machine, puzzling out all its unlabeled chrome buttons. At the sound of footsteps on the tile, he jumps, anxious despite himself in someone else's home. ]
[ Big houses mean big secrets. Either he heard that somewhere or he made it up himself, but either way it's true in a tacky, West Hollywood kind of way. Logan knows his mother believes Aaron is faithful in the same kind of way where she knows he does what he thinks is best for their son, and a big house makes that easy; rooms on opposite ends of opposite halls, half a dozen walls helping them keep up pretense.
Which is all to say that while Logan was dimly aware of the whiff of booze and a racket when his dad got home last night, he'd been fine with letting those walls do some work for him, too. Sometimes you pick fights, sometimes you avoid them entirely: last night was the latter. He waits until the car's gone before he leaves his room, still wearing pajamas and hair more messed up than tactfully messed up, and he stops in his tracks when he realizes there's someone in the kitchen.
A stranger calling out his dad's name, not that strange — but when he rounds the corner and gets a look at the someone in question, there's a heavy beat of silence for it to sink in. He still looks a little disoriented from sleep, brow slightly pinched above an otherwise blank expression. ]
He let you in?
[ There's something vaguely heavy in the abruptness of it, like maybe he's asking way more than just a yes or no question.
[ Kurt's first, totally absurd thought is that Aaron just collects young men and never lets them go home — maybe there's a whole host of attractive teenagers and twenty-something's waiting to appear all sleepy-eyed from around the house and welcome him into his new brotherhood.
But that's ridiculous, and the more obvious answer follows like a bucket of ice water down the back of his neck, or a slushee to the face. Logan Echolls looks exactly like the kind of guy to toss a slushee at some nerd, and Kurt's spine straightens as he draws himself up to full height, posture perfect and eyes wary. The way he carries himself like he's above it all has always been a kind of armour. ]
Yeah.
[ Awkward, not sure what else to say in this situation, but determined to keep acting like he has a right to be there. He touches the silver-chrome machine with long, pale fingers. Turns very slightly entreating. ]
[ Yeah. Just yeah, and Logan doesn't offer any escape from that awkwardness, staring in disbelief — startled disbelief, vulnerable instead of patronizing. He shakes it off a second later, dragging a hand over his face to wake himself up. He ignores Kurt's olive branch, stepping over to the fridge instead of joining him at the counter. ]
Make yourself at home.
[ Short and accusatory, everything about the intonation saying who the hell gave you the right. Dad did, obviously. Dad brought a pretty boy home and then gave him free run of the house, which either means he didn't care if Logan noticed or didn't even realize Logan was home to begin with. The first one's only marginally worse.
Either way, Aaron isn't here. Kurt is, so he's the one who gets the cold shoulder. Logan pulls the fridge door open a little too roughly, digs around for a second before shutting it. Day drinking hadn't been the original plan, but it is now. He steps over to Kurt a second later, beer in hand, stopping a little too close — just barely in his space, gaze direct and impatient. ]
You mind?
[ Getting out of the way. Bottle opener's in the drawer behind him, but Logan keeps it intentionally vague, intimidating and confusing. Venting. ]
[ Kurt's reaction to hostility is to clam himself uptight and drape himself in a cloak of superiority, which is difficult on this occasion. Oh, sure, he's better dressed and more talented but this isn't some Lima loser who'll be pumping his gas someday, he's pretty sure it's Aaron Echolls' son, which means he has every right to be uncomfortable with Kurt in his house. Actually, the reaction, two parts vulnerability and two parts anger, reminds him a lot of the way Finn was when their parents first started dating and Kurt had pushed into his space.
Still, he huffs a little through his nose when he's ignored, finally deciding to just treat the machine like the one he used to use at work and hope coffee came out that was at least vaguely drinkable. Except then the guy is right there again, beer in hand, and Kurt takes half a step backwards before he catches himself and steels his jaw. ]
Do I—?
[ Confused, and then he looks at the beer. And okay, so he was up a little late and so he's slept a little late, but it's still the morning, probably before ten, and the Echolls kid is younger than him (probably by like maybe a year but whatever, and definitely not twenty-one and way too young to be an alcoholic. ]
Are you going to drink that? Don't drink that.
[ It's a stupid thing to say, because nobody likes being told what to do and he has zero authority here, but Kurt isn't as charming and socially skilled as he likes to imagine he is. He flounders for a moment, biting his lip. ]
[ Logan could probably get a better read on the kid if he tried, but the thing is that he isn't trying, at all. He's too focused on other things — himself, mostly. When Kurt stalls out on the instinctive submission, straightens up and stands his ground, Logan just looks at him for a few unreadable seconds before cracking an incredulous smile.
The small relief is that he backs off while he speaks, taking a few easy steps back, raising the bottle in a toasting gesture that's a little too quick. The same could be said for those steps back, too; sharp, brimming with a hostility that counteracts the amusement in his voice. ]
You've got to be shitting me. First you— what, you hook up with my dad, and now you're telling me what to do? Little reminder for you, I've already got a mom. You might've heard of her. She's the one married to my dad.
[ This is easier. No less shitty and no less complicated, of course, but it somehow feels less vulnerable, calling him out on the cheating instead of the details — the fact that he's a guy, for one. That's new. The fact that he's—
Logan stops, free hand lifting to run back through his hair, movements all pent up energy and agitation. He almost sounds like he wants to laugh at the next question, like this is some elaborate joke. Like he's not taking it seriously. ]
[ Kurt responds (haha) curtly, because for all the overall incredulity, that seems like a fair question considering multiple people have told him he looks like a twelve year old. Aaron's family deserve to know that he's not a pedophile on top of everything else. Still, it's sharp, because he's hurt by the fact that he's just now finding out that Aaron's family are in the picture at all..
Guilt snaps its jaws at him, but unlike Logan, he doesn't take that out on the person standing opposite him. Though he does roll his eyes, and he still sounds stiff. ]
I'm not trying to mom you.
[ No more than he tries to mom everyone at all times, because he's fussy and interfering and learning to speak up for himself and have some confidence means he's now an abrasive asshole. ]
I just feel like only alcoholics start drinking when they wake up. I promise I'd still be judging you even under totally different circumstances.
[ Reassuring. He presses the buttons on the espresso machine and it beeps at him angrily, chokes out a couple of drops and then a hot gush, and then dies, all the little lights flickering off. Kurt stands with his hand still outstretched, his eyes slowly widening. Oh, shit. He has no idea how to cope with this before he's actually had any coffee. ]
[ The relief trickles in, slow and wary. The smile fades out the same way, gaze steady on Kurt as he searches his expression, looking for some sign that he's lying. The infidelity was one thing. Screwing a kid would be something else entirely. But he buys Kurt's answer, and he tries to convince himself he's relieved for his mother's sake — not that this somehow makes his dad less of an asshole.
Some of the hostility drains, too. The restlessness, the way he seems to be all energy and no outlet, that doesn't. Logan raises the beer to give it a considering look, brows lifting as he shifts his focus back to Kurt, expression all mock concern. ]
That's sweet of you, really. But maybe wait until you run into your dad's boy toy over breakfast, then I'll respect your advice on how to handle this situation.
[ Kurt sees his point, he does, but he's currently having a minor panic attack over the fact that he broke the expensive-looking Echolls family coffee machine. He flutters his hands for a moment like the tiny mincing fairy that he is, and then turns impossible glasz-colored eyes on Logan beseechingly. ]
I think I broke it. I have a hangover the size of Texas, and I can't actually process this whole...
[ A gesture to encompass Logan's entire angsty existence. ]
And being an— an adulterer without caffeine in my system. So I'm going to just. Go.
[ Logan's gaze flickers towards the coffee machine, then back to Kurt to take in the very dainty meltdown.
The gesture towards him earns a smug smile, closed-lipped and fake. It's too early for this. Scratch that — it isn't even that early, there's just no good time for this, period. Logan puts the bottle down on the kitchen island a little too hard, base hitting the counter with a sharp clack, then he steps forward.
The way he skirts around Kurt's space is almost respectful, were it not for the vaguely mocking hop to his step. He hits the side of the coffee machine with an open palm. That doesn't fix it, but he notices the problem in the meantime anyway. ]
[ Caffeine doesn't actually do anything for him, these days; same as alcohol, processed before he can even catch a buzz off the smell of a morning cup of coffee. But old habits die really hard, and apparently all of his friends are still completely addicted.
Barry's waiting near the end of the counter, a cup of coffee in each hand. When his phone buzzes in his pocket, one cup's awkwardly transferred to the crook of his arm so he can click through the messages — Story came up. Can't make it. Sorry!!! :(
Which is probably karma, at this point. A little more shifting of the coffees as he starts to type back, Don't wor—
And then the cup precariously balanced at his elbow tips. The phone's pocketed (too fast) and the coffee's grabbed (also too fast), and it isn't until after Barry's reacted on instinct that he realizes this maybe wasn't a superpower situation.
But sometimes too fast is literally too fast to see, so maybe it just looked like a slightly confusing but incredibly good save. ] Hey. I'm— sorry.
[ And also awkwardly apologizing for not spilling anything. ]
[ Kurt had just split-second resigned himself to losing an expensive silk shirt he'd "borrowed" from the Vogue offices to someone else's clumsiness, but the scald never comes, and when he steps back the guy has his coffee well in hand, apologizing. He lets out a breath of relief. ]
It's fine.
[ Unintentionally waspish, because there's a prickle of preemptive irritation with nowhere to go, that somehow isn't helped at all by this guy, whose face just. Bugs him, however polite he's being, however undeniably handsome he is. ]
Don't I know you from somewhere?
[ Maybe he goes to NYADA, or Kurt's seen him at an audition. But then all at once he places it, manages not to laugh at the absurdity. ]
[ Yikes. Gearing up for a more sincere apology when the guy abruptly changes topics, and Barry's brow furrows as he gives him a more discerning look. Not familiar. Which is sort of clarified by the follow-up question, given that he doesn't recognize the name. ]
Did you say Smythe? [ Like. How is that even spelled. Given his general lack of guile, the mildly judgy nature of the response is obvious, from the emphasis on the repetition to the bemused look on his face. ]
[ He goes to offer his hand but realizes Barry is still juggling coffe and retracts it, laughs a little awkwardly. He also realizes the Smythe thing sounds like a kind of weird pick up line, so he attempts to explain: ]
You just look a little like this guy I knew back in Ohio, Sebastian Smythe. Sound a little like him, too. I thought maybe you were related. My bad.
[ He's cuter than Sebastian, though, and also Sebastian probably would have spilled his coffee all over Kurt and then not apologized, so it's not like they're twins. Embarrassing to guess and be wrong, though. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Kurt feels out of place amidst all this magazine perfection. He's tired, sticky, and sex rumpled, and there's an unpleasant taste at the back of his mouth that tells him he had way too much to drink last night. Which explains the whole thing where he went home with the guy on the first date.
First things first: the note from Aaron says to make himself at home and get housekeeping to call him a taxi when he wants to leave — like this is a hotel and not a home. So Kurt takes a brief shower, knowing he can't do much more than rinse without his wall to wall boutique of skin and hair care products, and then he dresses in last night's outfit, crumpled but still fabulous, applies chapstick, finger combs his hair, sighs at the wan, pale face looking back from the mirror.
He needs caffeine and maybe som vit C before he'll be fully functional, though, so he makes his way out to the kitchen and studies the gigantic espresso machine, puzzling out all its unlabeled chrome buttons. At the sound of footsteps on the tile, he jumps, anxious despite himself in someone else's home. ]
Aaron?
[ He calls, voice high and girlish with nerves. ]
no subject
Which is all to say that while Logan was dimly aware of the whiff of booze and a racket when his dad got home last night, he'd been fine with letting those walls do some work for him, too. Sometimes you pick fights, sometimes you avoid them entirely: last night was the latter. He waits until the car's gone before he leaves his room, still wearing pajamas and hair more messed up than tactfully messed up, and he stops in his tracks when he realizes there's someone in the kitchen.
A stranger calling out his dad's name, not that strange — but when he rounds the corner and gets a look at the someone in question, there's a heavy beat of silence for it to sink in. He still looks a little disoriented from sleep, brow slightly pinched above an otherwise blank expression. ]
He let you in?
[ There's something vaguely heavy in the abruptness of it, like maybe he's asking way more than just a yes or no question.
no subject
But that's ridiculous, and the more obvious answer follows like a bucket of ice water down the back of his neck, or a slushee to the face. Logan Echolls looks exactly like the kind of guy to toss a slushee at some nerd, and Kurt's spine straightens as he draws himself up to full height, posture perfect and eyes wary. The way he carries himself like he's above it all has always been a kind of armour. ]
Yeah.
[ Awkward, not sure what else to say in this situation, but determined to keep acting like he has a right to be there. He touches the silver-chrome machine with long, pale fingers. Turns very slightly entreating. ]
Um, do you know how to work this?
no subject
Make yourself at home.
[ Short and accusatory, everything about the intonation saying who the hell gave you the right. Dad did, obviously. Dad brought a pretty boy home and then gave him free run of the house, which either means he didn't care if Logan noticed or didn't even realize Logan was home to begin with. The first one's only marginally worse.
Either way, Aaron isn't here. Kurt is, so he's the one who gets the cold shoulder. Logan pulls the fridge door open a little too roughly, digs around for a second before shutting it. Day drinking hadn't been the original plan, but it is now. He steps over to Kurt a second later, beer in hand, stopping a little too close — just barely in his space, gaze direct and impatient. ]
You mind?
[ Getting out of the way. Bottle opener's in the drawer behind him, but Logan keeps it intentionally vague, intimidating and confusing. Venting. ]
no subject
Still, he huffs a little through his nose when he's ignored, finally deciding to just treat the machine like the one he used to use at work and hope coffee came out that was at least vaguely drinkable. Except then the guy is right there again, beer in hand, and Kurt takes half a step backwards before he catches himself and steels his jaw. ]
Do I—?
[ Confused, and then he looks at the beer. And okay, so he was up a little late and so he's slept a little late, but it's still the morning, probably before ten, and the Echolls kid is younger than him (probably by like maybe a year but whatever, and definitely not twenty-one and way too young to be an alcoholic. ]
Are you going to drink that? Don't drink that.
[ It's a stupid thing to say, because nobody likes being told what to do and he has zero authority here, but Kurt isn't as charming and socially skilled as he likes to imagine he is. He flounders for a moment, biting his lip. ]
I'll make you coffee.
no subject
The small relief is that he backs off while he speaks, taking a few easy steps back, raising the bottle in a toasting gesture that's a little too quick. The same could be said for those steps back, too; sharp, brimming with a hostility that counteracts the amusement in his voice. ]
You've got to be shitting me. First you— what, you hook up with my dad, and now you're telling me what to do? Little reminder for you, I've already got a mom. You might've heard of her. She's the one married to my dad.
[ This is easier. No less shitty and no less complicated, of course, but it somehow feels less vulnerable, calling him out on the cheating instead of the details — the fact that he's a guy, for one. That's new. The fact that he's—
Logan stops, free hand lifting to run back through his hair, movements all pent up energy and agitation. He almost sounds like he wants to laugh at the next question, like this is some elaborate joke. Like he's not taking it seriously. ]
I mean, jesus christ, how old are you?
no subject
[ Kurt responds (haha) curtly, because for all the overall incredulity, that seems like a fair question considering multiple people have told him he looks like a twelve year old. Aaron's family deserve to know that he's not a pedophile on top of everything else. Still, it's sharp, because he's hurt by the fact that he's just now finding out that Aaron's family are in the picture at all..
Guilt snaps its jaws at him, but unlike Logan, he doesn't take that out on the person standing opposite him. Though he does roll his eyes, and he still sounds stiff. ]
I'm not trying to mom you.
[ No more than he tries to mom everyone at all times, because he's fussy and interfering and learning to speak up for himself and have some confidence means he's now an abrasive asshole. ]
I just feel like only alcoholics start drinking when they wake up. I promise I'd still be judging you even under totally different circumstances.
[ Reassuring. He presses the buttons on the espresso machine and it beeps at him angrily, chokes out a couple of drops and then a hot gush, and then dies, all the little lights flickering off. Kurt stands with his hand still outstretched, his eyes slowly widening. Oh, shit. He has no idea how to cope with this before he's actually had any coffee. ]
no subject
Some of the hostility drains, too. The restlessness, the way he seems to be all energy and no outlet, that doesn't. Logan raises the beer to give it a considering look, brows lifting as he shifts his focus back to Kurt, expression all mock concern. ]
That's sweet of you, really. But maybe wait until you run into your dad's boy toy over breakfast, then I'll respect your advice on how to handle this situation.
no subject
I think I broke it. I have a hangover the size of Texas, and I can't actually process this whole...
[ A gesture to encompass Logan's entire angsty existence. ]
And being an— an adulterer without caffeine in my system. So I'm going to just. Go.
no subject
The gesture towards him earns a smug smile, closed-lipped and fake. It's too early for this. Scratch that — it isn't even that early, there's just no good time for this, period. Logan puts the bottle down on the kitchen island a little too hard, base hitting the counter with a sharp clack, then he steps forward.
The way he skirts around Kurt's space is almost respectful, were it not for the vaguely mocking hop to his step. He hits the side of the coffee machine with an open palm. That doesn't fix it, but he notices the problem in the meantime anyway. ]
Relax, princess. It's just low on water.
no subject
Barry's waiting near the end of the counter, a cup of coffee in each hand. When his phone buzzes in his pocket, one cup's awkwardly transferred to the crook of his arm so he can click through the messages — Story came up. Can't make it. Sorry!!! :(
Which is probably karma, at this point. A little more shifting of the coffees as he starts to type back, Don't wor—
And then the cup precariously balanced at his elbow tips. The phone's pocketed (too fast) and the coffee's grabbed (also too fast), and it isn't until after Barry's reacted on instinct that he realizes this maybe wasn't a superpower situation.
But sometimes too fast is literally too fast to see, so maybe it just looked like a slightly confusing but incredibly good save. ] Hey. I'm— sorry.
[ And also awkwardly apologizing for not spilling anything. ]
no subject
It's fine.
[ Unintentionally waspish, because there's a prickle of preemptive irritation with nowhere to go, that somehow isn't helped at all by this guy, whose face just. Bugs him, however polite he's being, however undeniably handsome he is. ]
Don't I know you from somewhere?
[ Maybe he goes to NYADA, or Kurt's seen him at an audition. But then all at once he places it, manages not to laugh at the absurdity. ]
Or, wait, is your last name Smythe?
no subject
Did you say Smythe? [ Like. How is that even spelled. Given his general lack of guile, the mildly judgy nature of the response is obvious, from the emphasis on the repetition to the bemused look on his face. ]
No, sorry. I'm Barry. Barry Allen.
no subject
[ He goes to offer his hand but realizes Barry is still juggling coffe and retracts it, laughs a little awkwardly. He also realizes the Smythe thing sounds like a kind of weird pick up line, so he attempts to explain: ]
You just look a little like this guy I knew back in Ohio, Sebastian Smythe. Sound a little like him, too. I thought maybe you were related. My bad.
[ He's cuter than Sebastian, though, and also Sebastian probably would have spilled his coffee all over Kurt and then not apologized, so it's not like they're twins. Embarrassing to guess and be wrong, though. ]