Kurt quickly realizes after leaving Blaine's house that calling his dad was a mistake. Don't get him wrong, he adores his dad. However, sometimes his dad doesn't always see things from an unbiased perspective.

"I don't like him."

"Dad, you don't even know him."

"I know what you've told me, kid. And I don't like him."

Kurt sighs, his eyes flickering around the cityscape as he walks back to his apartment. "You don't even have a reason to not like him yet. I haven't given you one."

"Well then give me one! I'm your dad, I'm supposed to hate the boys you're interested in because they'll never be good enough for you." Burt teases.

"I haven't even told you anything about him, really. All you know is that we've been dancing around each other for months. And he's my best friend. And I think we might have screwed things up." Kurt tries to explain, knowing very well that he eventually has to tell his father exactlywhyKurt has reservations about dating Blaine.

"Where did you even meet this guy, anyway?" Burt asks skeptically.

"Just...around, dad. That's all."

"That's pretty cryptic, bud." Burt pushes, and Kurt figures he should just go for it.

"I met him in the alleyway next to my apartment complex, okay?" Before Burt can pipe in he adds, "No, he's not homeless, he was just bruised up. He'd been assaulted, and I let him clean up at the loft."

"Assaulted? Christ, Kurt, does he work for the mafia or something?"

Kurt lets out a short laugh. "No, dad. But I still don't think you'd like it if I told you what he did for real."

"Yeah, you're probably right. But you should tell me anyway."

"Ireallydon't know if I should."

"Kurt." Burt says sternly, in that fatherly tone that tells him he'd better do what he's told.

"Dad, you have topromisenot to judge him, do you understand?"

Kurt can practically hear the eyes rolling in Burt's head over the phone. "I promise, Kurt, come on. Stop beating around the bush and tell me. It can't be that bad."

"Well he provides special services in exchange for money, just like anybody else would."

"And what's his service? What's the hubbub? Is he a rival tire shop owner? Because I can deal with that, Kurt, you don't have to be so dramatic about it."

Kurt comes out and says it, fast and low, but audible.

"He's a hooker."

Burt doesn't speak for a moment. He breathes out heavily before he finally does answer. "What do you think you're doing, Kurt?" Burt sounds disappointed. It makes his forehead scrunch up.

"I don't know what you mean."

Burt's tone is highly concerned and choppy when he responds. "Look, Kurt, I understand you're an adult now, and that you're...you know, knowledgeable about sex and stuff, but I like to think I taught you better than to...to go out looking for cheap thrills-"

Kurt practically chokes out, "I didn't pay for him, dad!"

"Then why else would you be falling in love with a...with someone who does that?" Burt bumbles out, confoundedly.

"I told you how I met him! I wasn't out looking for a...that's not what I was looking for, dad! I've never...no. He was hurt and you always taught me to be hospitable. Someone attacked him, and would you expect me to just leave him?" Kurt rationalizes, trying to side-step more graphic terminology that he knows his father wouldn't appreciate.

Burt sighs on the other end of the line. "Kurt, you can't be getting mixed up with those kinda people."

Kurt feels his defenses flare up. "What exactlyare'those kind of people', dad? I told you not to judge him. He's a person, just like you and me. He likes musicals and football andnormalthings. He just earns his money differently than we do, that's all."

"Kurt, as your father, I can't encourage you to go after this guy. I'm sure if you say he's nice then he is, but you know that lifestyle is dangerous. He could have STDs or...kid, you wouldn't even be able to tell if he were being faithful to you. You'd know he'd be out there...doing that with other people."

"I know. I've thought about all of this. And that's why I'm having an existential crisis, here. We kissed, dad, and that can't be undone. It makes things ten times harder."

"So let me get this straight. You two haven't..." Burt trails off, leaving Kurt to fill in the obvious blank.

"No, dad. We've never..." Kurt takes a deep, quiet breath, figuring that, yes, he's an adult and he's capable of talking about this like an adult. "Blaine and I have never had sex, dad. I promise."

"Good." Burt breathes out, clearly having been holding it for Kurt's answer.

"I'm being careful, dad. I know all of the issues that come from being with someone who does what he does. But that's not all of who he is. There's so much more to him. And I think you just have to trust me on that."

"I'll try, buddy. I'll really try."

***

From Blaine Swallows:

3:12 AM:omg kurt this guy I just sucked off seriously had a monster cock

3:12 AM:I think I might have ripped the corners of my mouth cuz it fuckin HURTS

3:13 AM:part of me wishes he paid me enough to drop trou for him cause DAMN I wouldn't mind trying to take that puppy in the other end

3:15 AM:shit sorry youre probably sleeping just ignore me. i'll shut up now.

***

1 New Voicemail:

Hey you little stud, you. Just calling to see what you're up to. Sorry about last night, I hope I didn't wake you up. But since you didn't text me back I'll lean towards the possibility that you're cranky and don't wanna talk cause I deprived you of your precious and unnecessary beauty sleep. Anyway, hope everything is alright in the world of Vogue.com. Stay beautiful, baby. Bye.

***

3 New Voicemails:

Kuuurtiiieeee. I miss seeing your gorgeous face. Call me back.

-

Hey, Kurt! It's Blaine. Again. Obviously. Just wondering if you wanted to go grab some lunch today. I have some colorful tales to tell you from the past few days that I think you'll die laughing at my pain over. But if you're swamped with Isabelle, that's fine too. Um, I guess I'll talk to you later. See ya!

-

Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, there better be some fucking huge emergency leading to you not answering any of my calls or else I'm going to slap the shit out of you next time I see you. Love you! Bye.

-Delete All Messages in Voice Mail Box-

***

Facebook Message

To: Kurt Hummel

From: Blaine Anderson

Subject: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2:34 PM: Hey, asshole. Call me back!!

2:34 PM: I feel like I'm dying without your love, Kurt!!!!

2:34 PM: A guy almost broke my ass and you're not responding so I can tell you the story and listen to your inevitable mocking laughter

2:36 PM: Ok it's official I hate you and we're not friends anymore

Kurt Hummel:

2:36 PM: Blaine, I'm working.

Blaine Anderson:

2:36 PM: HOLY FUCK YOU RESPONDED! I'M NOT INVISIBLE!!

2:36 PM: Wait, if you're at work then what are you doing on facebook hmmmm?????

2:42 PM: Kuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurt??

2:47 PM: Fine, I'll have my tea party without your perky ass, fucker

2:47 PM: Which is a shame because the scones are gonna be hella delicious

***

From Blaine Swallows:

5:20 PM:Kurt, did I do something wrong? I really feel like I'm being ignored here.

5:30PM: Incoming Call: Blaine Swallows

-Ignore-

1 New Voicemail:

Look, Kurt. I'm not...trying to be annoying. I'm just worried, I guess? You're not answering me, like, ever. And if this is about...if this is about the kiss, then don't you think it's better if we talk about it? There were four lips involved, if I recall correctly, and two of them were mine. If you think it shouldn't have happened, that's fine. But I...I liked it, Kurt. I thought it was nice. But If that's not what this is about, then you have an even greater obligation to tell me, yourfucking best friend, about what is going on with you. So call me back. Please. Pleeeaassseee.

***

"That's the third time I've seen you ignore a call in the past half an hour, Kurt. Don't you think it could be important?" Isabelle asks, setting down her coffee on the table after taking a sip.

Kurt shakes his head, putting his phone on silent and slipping it into his bag hanging from his chair. "It's just Blaine."

Isabelle raises an eyebrow. "And is there a reason you're ignoring him?"

Kurt shrugs, stirring his latte with a stirring stick. "Don't really want to talk to him."

"Ok, let me rephrase. Is there something that happened that makes you not want to talk to him? And that is causing him to call you a million times?"

"It's nothing, Isabelle. Forget it." Kurt looks at her sharply, trying to get her to drop it. Now.

"Honey," Isabelle says softly, placing her hand across the table on top of Kurt's, "Tell me what's going on. Last time I checked you two were nearly inseparable."

Kurt's eyes meet Isabelle's, and he sighs. "Ok. A few weeks ago, Blaine and I were normal as ever. I was over at his place and we were watching TV and we...kissed."

Isabelle's eyes bulge, even wider than they are usually, her hand flying to her heart. "Kurt, I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

"I haven't told anyone but my dad, Isabelle. I haven't even told Rachel. I don'twantto tell anybody."

"Why the hell not? You've been head over heels for this guy from the start! Even the day after you met him, I could tell something about you had changed. So why the cold shoulder, hon?"

Kurt stares at her as if she had just said that pleather was a redeemable material. "Why? Isabelle, anything that I do with him just makes everything worse! I can never be with him, and pretending that I can just hurts too much. Kissing him was possibly the biggest mistake of my life, especially knowing that he liked it. He liked it, and he probably wants more, and he probably wants tosleep with me, god." Kurt rants on, his eyes snapping shut in simultaneous realization and frustration. "We can't, Isabelle. We cannever,because you know how I get. Possessive and clingy and manic. I want him and I can't stop wanting him, and Isabelle if this is how I feel without even being in a relationship, even sexually, how do you think I'll be if we actuallyarein one?" Kurt leans forward in desperation, grabbing Isabelle's hands with his.

Isabelle shakes her head softly in sympathy. "Oh, Kurt, I'm sorry. This is...complicated."

"Pff. Yeah, try living it." Kurt scoffs.

"Well, I suppose getting over him would be a good idea. But ignoring him might not be the best way to go about it."

"But it's the easiest way for me." Kurt argues.

"Well maybe it isn't for him. And if you care about him at all, you should consider that." Isabelle advises, squeezing both of Kurt's hands before pulling away to take another sip from her cup.

Kurt falls back against the back of his seat with a huff, kicking the heel of his boot against his dangling bag.

***

He's only two drinks in when he hears his name being called in frightfully nostalgic tones. "Kurt? Is that you?"

Kurt clutches his drink with a little more force than strictly necessary as he turns toward the voice. "Adam. Hi."

Adam is all smiles and gorgeousness as he approaches the bar where Kurt is seated, signaling the bartender down for a drink. Something strange, akin to fear but not quite as cataclysmic, shoots through Kurt's stomach at the sight of him, at the proximity of him, at his smile and courage and enthusiasm he's possessed as long a Kurt had known him.

Adam had been comfort for Kurt in a big way. Comfort against big, bad New York, against many a failure and tear-stained night. And even though they had mutually grown apart, Adam had been the one who ultimately split, leaving Kurt moderately heartbroken, but even more excruciating, leaving him alone. Something Kurt's dangerously sure he hasn't fully recovered from.

"How have you been?" Adam asks politely.

Kurt crosses his legs primly. "Oh, you know me. Work, work, fuck, work." Yeah, so maybe the "fuck" part wasn't true, but he wasn't about to let Adam know that he hasn't gotten laid in months. Or that he's getting incredibly restless due to this fact. Or that said restlessness was the exact reason he was in a gay bar right now, dressed to kill in side-studded skinny jeans and lace-up boots with very little of a shirt to speak of.

"So you really haven't changed, have you?" Adam says, laughter apparent in his voice. "You seeing anyone?" Adam asks with what seems to be genuine curiosity.

"Oh, I see plenty of people. Every day, in fact. Funny thing about the world, there seem to be a lot of us humans here."

Adam lets out that trademark laugh that he'd usually only reserved for Kurt back in the day, and it makes goosebumps rise on Kurt's skin. "Never lost that wit for a second, did you babe?"

"And never will." Kurt asserts, taking another drink, which seems to signal Adam taking a sip of his own that the bartender had left at his elbow. "No, I'm not." Kurt answers Adam's original question, trying as hard as he can to sound blasé about the topic.

Adam nods his head, staring at Kurt's face for a second too long before muttering, "Shame for them."

It's three more drinks later, only two for Adam, when Kurt finds himself on his back, welcoming Adam's cock in his ass like a long-lost friend. In the moment, everything about it feelsright. The familiarity of Adam, his face, his body, his accent, his dick...it all feels so mind-numbingly normal. Certainly along with the waves of liquor sloshing through his insides and stimulating his brain to a new realm of pleasure.

He's completely lost to the world outside of Adam until he hears the front door slam shut.

"Goddamn it, Rachel." Kurt mutters, pressing his face into Adam's neck.

"Do you want to stop?" Adam asks, slowing his hips to a halt.

"Hell no. We'll just have to keep it down a bit." Kurt says, fucking down onto Adam's cock to get him going again. And Adam doesn't need telling twice.

***

He feels like a train wreck the next morning. His brain is beating out of his skull, his ass aches like a motherfucker, and his legs are so sore he's pretty sure Adam tried to pull them out of his sockets-

Shit. Adam.

Kurt bolts up, taking in the obvious fact that Adam isn't in bed with him anymore, and his clothes are nowhere to be found either. Most of Kurt is overjoyed that he doesn't have to deal with the aftermath immediately, especially feeling as shitty as he does at the moment.

Kurt collapses back onto the bed, sheets flying up around him as he breathes through his nose and tries to not freak out as best as he can. He'd hooked up with Adam last night.Drunkenlyhooked up. And now Kurt feels so stupid. Adam had treated him like shit in the end, and Kurt had just let him back into his bed like they were old chums.

Little flashbacks of their intoxicated fuck filter through his mind like a gritty slideshow, and Kurt is absolutely positive he has no dignity left if he was as loud and clingy and desperate as he thinks he was last night.

He hears the front door open and close, and the telltale sound of clacking heels on the concrete floor. Kurt drags himself out of bed and slips through the draped partition after pulling on a pair of pajama pants. Rachel is in her side of the room, throwing her fitted trench coat onto her bed and fluffing out her hair.

"What were you doing out so early? Considering you got in at about midnight last night." Kurt asks, tugging his fingers through his fucked up hair. His voice sounds fucked too. He should just face it, everything about him this morningscreams'I had a drunken fuck with my ex last night.'

Rachel takes him in, head to toe, and wrinkles her nose. "You look like hell."

"Thanks." Kurt says, the sarcasm thick in his raspy voice. "But you didn't answer my question."

"I didn't come home last night, boo. I stayed at Brody's overnight."

Kurt's forehead wrinkles in confusion. "What are you talking about? I definitely heard the front door."

Rachel shakes her head slowly. "I wasn't home. Oh my god, were we robbed?" Rachel's voice shoots up an octave, scurrying from her room and scanning the apartment, her heels knocking against the floor and sounding like boulders in his hungover ears.

"No, Rachel, I would've heard it if we were robbed. Besides, Adam and I were fucking loud enough to scare them away...shit." Kurt closes his eyes as he lets the end of his sentence drop off, cupping his hand around his forehead.

"Adam?" Rachel shrieks. "You were with Adam last night?!"

"God, shhh!" Kurt shushes, clutching his head.

Rachel cringes in apology, lowering her voice. "Sorry. But you hooked up with Adam last night?" Rachel asks again, wide-eyed.

Kurt nods minimally, trying to keep his head from moving. "I was drunk and horny and neededsomeone. And then Adam showed up and...wait, but that's not the point! Who came home last night then?"

And then Kurt freezes. "Oh god." He whispers, shifting his gaze to the front door and staring. "Ohgod." Kurt whines, his hand flying to his mouth.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" Rachel asks worriedly, scurrying over to him and cupping his cheek with her hand.

"Blaine."

Rachel scrunches her eyebrows in confusion. "What about Blaine?"

"It wasBlainelast night. Oh my god." Kurt repeats, and he feels hot tears burning his eyes as it all dawns on him. "He probably came over to see why I was avoiding him. We left the door unlocked when we ran in and...ohgod, Rachel." Kurt presses his face into Rachel's neck, her perfume far too overwhelming for his current state, but he needs somewhere to crawl, and Rachel has always been there.

Her arms come up around his stomach, squeezing tight. "Oh, Kurt, I'm sorry."

"It's all my fault. I ignored him and I slept with Adam and it's all my fault."

"Blaine will understand, Kurt. He's a boy. He's familiar with sex."

Kurt grabs her shoulders and looks her in the eye. "No, Rachel, you don't get it. It's not me having sex that's the problem. It's the fact that...thatI'm having sex." Kurt says, trying to get across what makes sense in his head, but obviously makes no sense to Rachel.

"I'm...not getting the difference there." Rachel says, still looking confused.

"There's a whole lot between Blaine and I that you don't know, Rachel. I'll just leave it at that." Kurt's too tired and exhausted to explain. He passes Rachel and heads back towards his room.

"And you aren't going totell me?" Rachel complains, stomping a foot on the ground.

"Later, please, Rachel." Kurt begs, wrenching closed his curtain and flopping onto his bed again.