Soon enough, exams had taken place, the school year had ended, and the summer holidays had begun. Carson was relieved, to say the least. Without school to worry about, he could focus almost exclusively on work, and his nest egg was growing bigger and bigger every day. He hoped that by the time the summer was over, he could start looking for a flat of his own and finally be out of the damn house that held nothing but eternal frustration and horrible memories. Maybe he'd even get a pet.

He shuffled home one late July afternoon, tired but satisfied with himself for having a pretty full, productive day. His last client hadn't even wanted very much from him, just a warm body to tie him to the bed and use an array of strange and interesting toys on him. The whole thing took only about forty-five minutes, and Carson barely had to do any work. He patted his pocket happily, pleased with how fat it was with folded up bills. Summer was being very good to him. Work-wise, anyway.

The buzzing of his phone in his other pocket distracted him from his post-work pride bubble, and he hastily fished it out of his pants, looking down at the screen and frowning in confusion as he saw his father's name come up on the caller identification. What the fuck did he want? Should he even answer?

Curiosity got the better of him, and he slid his thumb across the phone's screen, allowing the call to go through.

"Hello?" he said cautiously.

"Hey, Carson," his father's voice answered on the other end of the line. "I didn't mean to call you after school. I'm sure you're busy with your homework and so forth."

"It's summer, Dad," Carson replied. "School isn't generally in session right now."

"Ahem. Well, anyway," Neal said awkwardly, trailing off and not finishing his sentence. There were several seconds of uncomfortable silence as neither of them said anything before Carson finally couldn't stand it anymore.

"What the hell do you want?" he asked impatiently.

"Right. Well, um, as you know, April and I are going to be getting married," his father replied, sounding weirdly civil toward him, almost as though someone else were in the room with him. Which someone probably was, Carson realized. He'd bet anything April herself was witnessing this conversation, so Neal really couldn't treat him like the dog shit under his shoe that he normally would.

"I'm aware of that," muttered Carson. "Although that's really interesting, since as far as I know, Mom hasn't signed any divorce papers."

"Anyway," Neal continued, clearly trying not to blow his top, "I wouldn't have bothered you, but April wants to see you. And Kurt. Both of you."

"Why?" Carson pressed.

"She thinks it would be a good idea for us to establish some sort of family bond," Neal replied, practically spitting the words out as if they were filthy. "So she wants to invite the both of you to dinner soon, if you can make it. Say, eight tomorrow?"

Carson was floored by this request. The very last thing he wanted to do was suffer through a meal with his father, and he had a feeling that Kurt was still at the stage where he would rather eat glass than agree to such a thing. April was still a particularly sore subject for him.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Kurt probably won't want to, and quite frankly, I don't really see why I should do you any favors."

"Well, you think on it," Neal replied, and Carson could almost hear the venom in his father's voice. It was fucking killing him not to be able to scream at Carson and call him every name in the book. "Think on it and get back to me, ok? Ok." The line clicked as his father hung up and Carson just stood there in the street holding his phone, wondering what the fuck had just happened. He couldn't think of anything he would rather do less than accept this invitation, and yet, he thought it would almost be worth the trouble of going in order to watch Neal have to force himself to be civil and friendly in front of April. The very thought caused a smile of amusement to spread over his face.

The real trouble would be convincing Kurt to go.

"I don't want to go," Kurt said firmly, catching Carson's eye in the bathroom mirror as he carefully applied styling product to his hair to give it his standard front swoosh. "And I don't know why the hell you want to go, either…. ugh, damn it, Carson, if you're going to use my hair stuff to go do whatever the hell it is you do all day, can you at least replace it when it gets low?"

"I don't really want to go," said Carson truthfully, ignoring the second comment. "I just think it would be fun, somehow."

"Fun?" Kurt exclaimed. "Are you high? Dad's a cheating asshole and he wants us to play happy family with his pregnant side dish after trying to pretend that we don't exist. And you think this sounds fun?"

"Well, yeah," admitted Carson. "Think about it, Kurt. He did try to pretend we didn't exist. He didn't want April to know about us at all…"

"Her name is Side Dish, Carson," Kurt interrupted bitterly as he finished swooshing his hair.

"April is probably making him-"

"Side Dish."

Carson sighed. "She is probably making him invite us to dinner as some kind of weird atonement for what he did. If he had his way, he'd probably just be happier to chuck us both in the river, but he has to put on a facade in front of A… in front of her," he corrected himself as Kurt glared at him in the mirror. "Now, come on, don't you think that little bit of amusement is worth an hour at their house?"

Kurt sighed, locking eyes with Carson's reflection. "I'll be so uncomfortable," he admitted out loud.

"And I won't?" Carson replied. He crossed over to Kurt and threw his arms around his neck from behind, nuzzling his chin on Kurt's shoulder and looking at him in the mirror with a pout. "Come on, Kurtsie. Please? I don't want to go all by myself. Dad could poison me and I'd never make it back home. He won't if there's a witness."

Kurt reached a hand up to grasp at Carson's, giving the skin a gentle rub as he contemplated the offer. He hated the hold Carson had over his emotions, hated the fact that he knew damn well he would agree just because it was Carson who was asking. They might fight and go for each other's throats from time to time, but at the end of the day, Kurt knew he would move heaven and earth to do anything for his twin. It was just in his nature, he supposed.

Or because he loved him so much it hurt.

"Just an hour?" he asked hopefully.

"Maybe even less," Carson promised. "I do think we kind of owe it to Ap… to Side Dish. Although, really, Kurt, none of this is really her fault. It's actually more my fault than hers. And you probably can't get away with calling her Side Dish in her own house."

Kurt snorted. "Fine, fine. I promise to call June by her real name."

"April, Kurt."

"God, fine."

Which was how Kurt found himself the next night sitting awkwardly at an unfamiliar dining room table, desperately shoving forkfuls of food into his mouth in as dignified a manner as possible in order to avoid having to make much small talk. Nobody had said very much, in fact, since the moment they had all sat down to dinner, but at least Kurt could honestly say that he hadn't called April by a name that wasn't hers so far. He'd tried his best to avoid calling her anything at all.

At least the food is good, he thought grumpily as he chewed, sharing a brief glance with Carson in the midst of the silence. Not that I want to admit it.

"So, Kurt," April said suddenly, breaking the silence and Kurt's bubble of safety at the same time. "I, um… well, obviously, I do know your brother a little bit, but I don't really know you that well. Or at all. Your father tells me that you're quite popular at school."

Kurt took his time chewing and swallowing the bite of food in his mouth, trying to stall having to answer her for as long as possible. "I guess?" he replied at last. "I wouldn't exactly say popular, but… I mean, I'm in Glee club, and I have friends, so."

"Glee club, huh?" April said happily, latching onto something she could use. "That sounds fun! What do you do there?"

"Well, mostly I sway in the background while other people sing solo after solo," said Kurt dryly. "I don't think the instructor likes me very much, but he always claims that the club needs my talent, so I stick around."

"Oh," said April quietly, disappointed. "Well." There were several more awkward moments of silence before she turned her attention to Carson.

"So, Carson, your dad says you get good grades in school?" she said hopefully, clearly praying for something, anything, to get a conversation going.

"I can't imagine how he would know," muttered Kurt. "Not like he ever paid attention even when he lived- ow!" he grunted as Carson kicked him under the table. His twin swallowed his food and nodded.

"I've been told I have the highest average in my year," he replied diplomatically. "And that's even with my incessant need to argue with my teachers over their asinine lesson plans."

"Do you play any sports or anything?" asked April, admirably chugging along despite the fact that every topic of conversation so far had hit a dead end. Kurt had to hand it to her, she was nothing if not a determined woman.

Neal snorted into his food. "That would be a no," he replied. "Although god knows I tried. Took him to the park a lot and tried to get him to throw a ball around, but he never showed any interest."

Both twins turned to him, sporting what Kurt could only assume were identical faces of absolute disbelief.

"Did we?" asked Carson, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I quickly realized I wasn't going to get the major leaguer I was hoping for," Neal continued as if he hadn't heard him. "He kind of threw like a girl."

Kurt could almost feel his blood boiling inside every inch of his body. The stunned look on Carson's face wasn't helping, either. If anything, it was only making Kurt angrier. Who the fuck did their father think he was, sitting there and trying to pretend to this woman that he was anything but an abusive asshole to Carson all his life? Was she even buying any of this, knowing full well that Neal was going to be quite happy to let her believe he had no children? He clenched his fist around his fork angrily and tried to control the swirling volcano of anger that was threatening to erupt at any moment.

"We never did that, Dad," said Carson quietly.

"Sure we did, you just don't remember," Neal replied pointedly, as if to threaten him into agreeing.

"I think I would remember something like that," Carson shot back as April looked nervously between all three of them.

"Well, you don't," said Neal, sticking a forkful of food in his mouth. "Kids," he said with a chuckle to April. "Never remember anything good you do for them, right?"

Ok. That was it. Kurt could stay silent no longer. He placed his fork down and glared at his father, rage consuming him so badly he could barely maintain a normal tone of voice.

"Dad, you never took Carson to the park," he said, his voice so low and dangerous that it even freaked him out. "He never took Carson to the park," he repeated, directing his words at April this time. "That would have been quite impossible, because I can't imagine where he would have found the time in between beating him and basically punishing him for existing."

Silence reigned at the table for several uncomfortable seconds as everyone absorbed Kurt's words. April looked shocked, Neal pissed, and Carson very, very uncomfortable.

"Kurt, you don't have the best memory of things, either," Neal said, his eyes fixed on Kurt in a look that could have killed him if such a thing were possible.

"Don't I? I'm sorry, Dad, but I think April here deserves to know the truth," Kurt retorted, his anger carrying him beyond all reason. "She deserves to know that she's having a child with a man who, once upon a time, had two kids. And that one of them had to grow up watching the other be treated as if he were lower than nothing, and wonder what exactly made them so different, and why Dad couldn't just love them both."

"Kurt," Neal warned as Carson looked quietly down at his plate, pushing the food around on it with his fork.

"Why couldn't you just love him?" Kurt demanded, turning his attention to Neal, whose face was gradually turning purple with rage. "He's your son, too. Why couldn't you just love him?"

"Kurt Phillips!" Neal exclaimed angrily, his face red with rage.

"Ok, you know what? I can't do this," Kurt said, getting up from the table and pushing his chair in as he locked eyes with April. "I just think you deserve to know that nothing good can come from raising a kid with this man. He screwed up two lives already." He marched out of the dining room and toward the front door, hearing Carson get up and hastily thank April for the meal before running out after him.

"Kurt!" Carson shouted, catching up to him on the street outside and grabbing his shoulder. "Kurt, what the fuck."

"I'm sorry," Kurt said sincerely, turning to face him. "I'm really sorry, Carson, but that man…. god, I just want to strangle him. How could you sit there and take that shit? If he had said one more word, I swear to god I would have killed him. He did nothing but hurt you your entire life, and I just…. Carson, I love you too much to let him keep doing it. I know we have our differences and we have our fights, but there is nothing that could ever happen to make what just happened in there ok."

Carson just looked at him for a minute before sighing and pulling him into a hug, holding Kurt close against his body. Kurt could feel his heart beating against his own as he returned the hug, his hands rubbing circles into Carson's back. This man in his arms was so precious to him, and he couldn't even find the words to say how much. It didn't matter if they weren't together romantically at the moment, or if Carson was hiding a secret boyfriend, or if Kurt had to admit that sometimes he substituted Sebastian for the attention he wished he could get from Carson, or if they fought and squabbled over stupid things.

Kurt knew their bond was strong enough to survive those things, if they let it. This shit too would pass.

It wasn't passing quickly enough, though.

Carson sat quietly in the chair in his grandmother's room as the woman herself slept, staring down at the small piece of paper in his hand and tracing the edges of it gently with his finger. It was a sonogram photo, given to him by Santana during an unexpected visit the night he and Kurt returned home from Neal and April's disastrous dinner. And honestly, he wasn't sure how to feel about it.

"Why are you giving me this?" he'd asked Santana, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice, which wasn't easy when the very sight of the photo caused his stomach to feel like it was being filled with rocks.

"I've had it for a while," she'd answered with a shrug. "And I just… I can't have it around. I just can't. It makes me feel weird and I just want to forget that any of it ever happened, you know?"

"That doesn't exactly answer my question. Why are you giving it to me?" Carson asked again, unable to tear his eyes away from it.

"Well, I don't want it around, but I didn't want to just throw it away," explained Santana, sounding apologetic. "I mean, it was…. you know. Our kid."

"I'm aware," mumbled Carson. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me you were getting a sonogram done? I would have gone with you."

"I didn't think you would care," replied Santana defensively.

"You didn't think I would care about seeing my baby?"

"Well it wasn't like I could predict that it would be the only sonogram, ok?" she retorted. "Jesus. Just… take the picture. Please?"

He'd taken it and promised himself he wouldn't look at it too much, but so far he'd not been very successful. He'd carried it everywhere for days, taking it out to look whenever he had a spare moment. He knew it wasn't healthy for him; was well aware that keeping it could only set him back when he'd made so much progress in trying to forget. But, like Santana before him, he did not want to just toss it away.

He sighed and got up from his chair, crossing the room toward the chest of drawers across from his grandmother's bed. He opened the third from the top, the one he knew contained keepsakes and personal mementos from Grandma's life instead of clothes and stuff. He opened a small photo album he found inside and flipped through it, smiling at the faded snapshots of him and Kurt when they were little. He kissed the sonogram photo and carefully pressed it between the pages, closing it softly and then closing the drawer. He walked over to Grandma's bed and glanced down at her sleeping face, leaning down to place a kiss on her forehead.

"Take care of her for me, ok, Grandma?" he whispered quietly. His grandmother stirred a little in her sleep, and he decided to take that as a yes.

He left the room and made his way out of the building and onto the street, where he paused to have a quick smoke break before heading toward one last errand he wanted to run before he went home for the day. He took a deep breath to gather his courage before pushing open the door of the pharmacy, praying that April was working today so that he could do what had to be done before he lost his nerve.

Thankfully, she was. She looked a little startled to see him when he entered the store, not that he could blame her. He didn't even want to know what her conversation with Neal had consisted of after Kurt's outburst at their house.

To her credit, she recovered quickly and assumed a professional stance, standing up straight and looking him right in the eye as he approached her counter.

"What can I do for you?" she asked.

"Ok, look, I know that dinner was a disaster, but I just have something I want to say to you really fast, so, just…. you don't have to say anything, just listen," Carson let out in a rush. "Ok?"

She looked at him carefully and nodded in agreement, to his relief. "Ok."

"Look, I know you have zero reason to trust me, but let me just tell you something, ok?" he began. "The little person in there?" he added, indicating her stomach. "That's my sibling. And I feel like I'm kind of, maybe, sort of, part of the reason why they're going to exist. And let me tell you, I don't want them to have the same kind of childhood I did."

"Carson," April began, but Carson held a hand up to silence her.

"Please let me finish. Neal is a hopeless asshole, but you're… you're not. You're really not. I like you. You're actually pretty cool, even if you have horrible taste in men, but…. anyway. As I was saying, Neal sucks, but you don't, and I just want to ask you to do me one favor. Just one. Ok?"

She looked at him in silence for a second, and Carson wasn't sure if he was expecting her to answer or what, but finally she nodded in agreement.

"What is it?" she asked.

Carson took a deep breath before continuing. "Don't let your kid grow up like me. Ok? Step up and protect them. Nurture them. Don't let Neal treat them like they're anything less than the best thing that ever happened to you. Don't…. don't be like my mom. Ok? She didn't step up for me, and I don't want you to let that happen to your kid. That's it. That's all I'm asking."

He waited for her to say something. Anything. She didn't for a while, and he was beginning to think that she wouldn't, but then she broke the silence with two little reassuring words.

"I promise."

Carson let out a sigh of relief and smiled at her. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you."

He turned on his heel and marched back out of the pharmacy, the deed done. He knew he would never be able to do anything for his own baby, but at least he could do some small bit of good for someone else's.

Sebastian frowned at the windshield of his car as he drove angrily down the street, his thoughts a storm cloud of frustration. He'd just had what some might consider his first actual fight with Kurt, and he honestly didn't really know how he was supposed to feel about it. Well…. ok, it wasn't a fight, exactly, but more of an argument, he supposed.

It had all started when he and Kurt had been hanging around Kurt's bedroom before they planned to go out, and Kurt had disappeared briefly into the bathroom. When he emerged, it was with a look of utmost worry as he carried something in his hand.

"Carson left his phone," he announced, waving it around for emphasis. "He's been gone all afternoon, and he left his phone."

"So?" asked Sebastian casually, silently relieved that he knew for a fact that Carson deleted any and all text messages almost as soon as they'd been read, on the off chance that this very situation ever happened. Smart boy. Stupid boy, of course, but smart. At least Sebastian didn't have to worry about being around on the day Kurt ever discovered his brother's dirty little secret.

"What do you mean so?" Kurt retorted. "So nobody knows where he is, and he has no way of being reached!"

"He's seventeen, Kurt, not seven," Sebastian pointed out. "One night without a phone isn't going to kill him."

"Sebastian, he sells drugs and does all kinds of dangerous shit every time he leaves the house," Kurt snapped. "And god knows who he's with. What if something happens to him and we have no way of knowing?"

"Well, it would turn up on the news, I expect," replied Sebastian. "Boy, seventeen, arrested for selling poppers to a group of celibate monks, news at eleven."

"Is that supposed to be funny?" asked Kurt dangerously. "Because it wasn't."

"Oh come on, Kurt," said Sebastian with a sigh. "Honestly, don't you ever get tired of living your entire life worrying about what your brother is doing?"

"I do not do that," snapped Kurt.

"Yeah, you do."

"Excuse me for being worried when my brother is god knows where, and nobody who loves him has any way of contacting him to make sure he's ok," said Kurt sarcastically. "Really, how silly of me."

"Kurt, calm down," said Sebastian calmly, walking over to him and placing his hands on his shoulders in what he hoped was a comforting manner. "Seriously. You're going to give yourself a heart attack, and as much as I think you would manage to make those ugly hospital gowns look like a porn costume, I still don't think that would be quite healthy for you. This obsession you have with Carson in general isn't healthy for you."

"Excuse me?" Kurt exclaimed, clearly offended. "My obsession?"

"Well, Kurt, come on," Sebastian stated simply. "You spend most of your time just waiting for Carson to snap his fingers so you can come running to him. Don't you get tired of it?"

"You know what, Sebastian? If me being worried about someone I love bothers you so damn much, why don't you just go out by yourself tonight?" snapped Kurt, marching across the room and gesturing out the door for emphasis. "Go on."

"Oh for Christ's sake, Kurt. Grow up."

"Get out."

Sebastian rolled his eyes and gave up, heading out of Kurt's bedroom and looking back at him briefly, wanting to say something but not quite sure what.

"I'm sorry, Kurt." Well shit, I've never really had to say those words before. Feels weird.

Kurt sighed. "I'm just not in the mood tonight, Sebastian. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Well. It wasn't perfect, but Sebastian would take it.

But still. He couldn't shake the weird feeling that overtook him after that argument. He couldn't really identify it, other than to call it uncomfortable. He'd never really cared much before whether someone was mad at him or not, but somehow it was different when it was Kurt. He actually, actively wanted Kurt to not be mad at him.

God. What a mess.

And the more he thought about it as he drove down the city streets, the more it bugged him. What the fuck. Why should it bug him so damn much? Frankly, he wasn't sure he liked this. He was Sebastian Smythe. Nothing shook him. Nothing.

He turned a corner and kept driving until he was nearer to his own house than Kurt's. He stopped at a traffic light and wondered how much street cred he would lose if he just went home for the night. He'd almost decided to do just that, but then out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a very familiar face outside one of the nice, high-end clubs that lined the downtown strip.

And Carson was with a random guy. Fucking great.

Ok, you know what? No. Nope. He doesn't get to make Kurt worry and then go sell himself to some stranger. Especially not with no phone on shit is dangerous and he's going to get himself killed one day.

Sebastian parked his car as quickly as he could and then marched across the street toward Carson and his "date," not quite sure what he was going to do, but knowing that he sure as hell wasn't going to let Carson walk into a potentially dangerous situation if he could help it.

"Sebastian, what the fuck are you doing here?" Carson growled through gritted teeth as Sebastian reached into his pocket for his wallet. "Oh for Christ's sake. Again?"

"Yes. Again," Sebastian retorted, pulling out a wad of bills and shoving them into the john's hand. "Here, buddy, he accidentally double booked," he said to him. "I'm so very sorry, I hope that covers it."

The guy looked disappointed but shrugged and pocketed the money as he turned and entered the club alone, leaving Sebastian and a very pissed off looking Carson out on the street.

"Sebastian, what the actual fuck?" Carson exclaimed angrily. "Is that your solution to everything? Just throw money at it and make it go away?"

"Do you realize you left your phone at home?" replied Sebastian with crossed arms as he glared back at him.

"So what?"

"So, your brother is currently sitting at home convinced that you're going to wind up dead in a ditch somewhere, that's what," retorted Sebastian irritably. "And you very well might have. What do you know about the dude you were planning on fucking tonight? Anything?"

"He'll get over it," snapped Carson. "You can't just keep paying off every guy you see me with. It doesn't make any difference. I don't know why you think it does. All it does is waste your money."

Sebastian had no idea what came over him, but he was pretty sure that this was what snapping felt like. He grabbed Carson by the hand and started leading him across the street toward his car as the other boy squawked and yanked his hand free.

"Just what the fuck do you think you're doing?" screeched Carson.

"Well, as you so helpfully pointed out, paying off every guy I see you with kind of is a waste of my money," replied Sebastian calmly. "So I'm remedying the situation. I'm going to not let that money be wasted."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" exclaimed Carson as he got what Sebastian was implying. "I am not fucking you!"

"Well, I just paid for your services, so actually, yes, you are," replied Sebastian. "You were going to fuck someone tonight, so really, I don't see what difference it makes whether it's me or some random who could have a bunch of gross diseases. But if you really don't want to, you can always refund my money."

Carson stood there in the middle of the street, gaping at him with his mouth open in disbelief.

"I can't fucking believe you," he snapped angrily. "You are the literal goddamn devil."

"So I've been told," said Sebastian with a shrug. "You coming or what?"

"I hate you."

"That's a shame, because I'm actually quite fond of you," said Sebastian sweetly. "That guy could have been a serial killer. You don't know. I could have just saved your life."

"Fuck off."

"Well, I might have to if you don't come with me," replied Sebastian with a grin. "No biggie. It's totally your call."

Carson's face contorted with rage, but he at least seemed to be considering the offer.

"This is the one and only time this is happening," he muttered crossly at last as he pushed past Sebastian and yanked open the passenger door of the car. "The next time you scare a client off, I will kick you right in the fucking balls, you got me?"

"Noted," said Sebastian cheerfully as he got into the drivers seat and started the engine. "Now, let's go see what everyone is raving about and willing to pay top dollar for."

"We've had sex before, dumbass."

"Never alone, though," said Sebastian with a wink as he drove. "Or sober. This is gonna be fun."

"Oh, fuck off."

Carson seethed for the entire car ride back to Sebastian's house, thinking dark, murderous thoughts about how awesome that smirky meerkat face would look mounted and stuffed on the wall of a hunting lodge somewhere in the wilderness. He didn't know where the hell Sebastian got off chasing all his clients away, but if Carson had anything to say about it, the next time he did it would be his last fucking day on earth.

He stalked silently behind Sebastian as the other boy let them into the house and led them upstairs, opening the door to his bedroom and gesturing with a flourish as if he were inviting royalty to enter a dinner in their honor.

"After you," he said cheekily, and Carson wanted to smack that stupid grin right off his face.

"Whatever, let's get this over with," he muttered, entering the room and crossing his arms as he watched Sebastian flop down on his bed and look at him expectantly.

"Well?" Sebastian pressed. "Get to it, then."

"You have got to be kidding me," Carson said with a disbelieving laugh. "Is that your idea of how to turn a guy on? Because it sucks."

"You wound me," Sebastian pouted.

"No, but trust me, I'd love to," said Carson. "You wanted this, you do all the prep work. I'm not touching your ass any more than necessary."

"Cute, but my ass has nothing to do with the evening's festivities," replied Sebastian. "Yours, however, does."

"Oh fuck no, I am not bottoming," Carson insisted.

"That's a shame. I'll take my money back any time, then," shrugged Sebastian.

"Oh god, fuck you."

"That would be the plan, yes."

"Make me."

Sebastian grinned, and Carson had a feeling he'd made the wrong choice of words there. "Feisty. Ok. I'm flexible. And I'm pretty sure you are, too," the other boy said cheerfully, hopping off the bed and crossing over to Carson. Before Carson knew what was happening, he found himself shoved up against the wall. His breath caught in his throat as Sebastian grabbed his wrists and pulled them up, pinning them to the wall above his head. Carson glared at him, refusing to acknowledge the fact that his dick was very interested in this turn of events, betraying him by filling with blood as Sebastian pressed closer to him.

"Like I said, I have no problem being flexible," Sebastian whispered, his hot breath against Carson's neck causing him to squirm against the tight hold he had on his wrists. Sebastian pressed his body as close to Carson's as it would go, forcing Carson to stop squirming and just wait for whatever he planned to give him next. Carson couldn't suppress the way his entire body shuddered as his dick stiffened further against his thigh, which Sebastian couldn't possibly miss with the way their bodies were practically attached.

"Enjoying this, are we?" he smirked.

"You're such an asshole," retorted Carson, his mouth watering as he licked his lips in spite of himself. Sebastian slipped his thigh between his legs and rubbed at his erection, causing Carson to hiss out a breath in response.

"Tell me, Carson, just how many guys have fucked you by now?" asked Sebastian as he attacked Carson's neck with his lips and teeth, sucking what felt like a huge hickey into the skin as Carson struggled to keep control of his breathing. He hadn't expected to be this turned on, and he was determined not to show it.

"They don't generally fuck me, shithead. I do the fucking. And even if they did, they'd probably give it to me better than you can."

Sebastian pulled away and stared at Carson, his eyes wild and looking slightly pissed, and Carson shivered as he wondered what effect his words would have on what Sebastian planned to do next. He kind of looked like he wanted to smack Carson, but of course he didn't. Instead, he hastily stripped Carson of his jeans, not even trying to be graceful as he poked and yanked and tugged until they had been taken down and off. Carson's boxer briefs were disposed of just as quickly, and Sebastian didn't even bother with his T-shirt as he lifted each of Carson's thighs in turn, wrapping them around himself and pushing both of their bodies up against the wall again.

Carson wrapped his arms around Sebastian's neck and stared him down, blue eyes meeting green as he silently dared him to do anything further. Sebastian momentarily looked like he wasn't quite sure what to do next, so Carson decided to spur him on. He threaded his fingers through Sebastian's soft hair, grabbing thick handfuls and tugging on it hard.

"Fuck," Sebastian swore, pressing Carson further up against the wall as he hissed in pain. Carson tugged harder and Sebastian buried his face in his neck, their stomachs pressing together to trap Carson's throbbing erection between them.

"Uuungh," Carson moaned, unable to hold back as Sebastian nipped at the sensitive skin of his neck. He threw his head back, where it landed with a thud against the wall as Sebastian moved on to his shoulder, planting a bite on it as Carson squeaked indignantly.

"I thought you were going to fuck me," he said, pissed off at how much he was actually enjoying this. "Are you going to get on with it, or what?"

Sebastian grinned, sucking a finger into his mouth and bringing it down to Carson's hole, teasing it around the rim for a few seconds as Carson bit his lip.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he panted out.

"You like it rough, I trust?" Sebastian asked rhetorically as he began to push in.

"Fuck!" Carson screamed, and not even in pain, either. It did hurt for a second, but he was honestly more concerned with his aching cock that was practically crying out for attention that Sebastian wasn't giving it.

"Just say the word and I'll take it out," Sebastian cooed, slowly burying his finger all the way in to the knuckle.

"Asshole."

"Yes, you have a tight one," Sebastian agreed as Carson let out a gasping breath and dug his nails into Sebastian's back, probably poking holes into the other boy's shirt, but he didn't really give a fuck. He hoped he did ruin his shirt. Would serve him right.

Sebastian added another finger with no warning, and Carson cried out as he arched his back and almost scraped skin off Sebastian's as he dug his nails in more.

"Jesus," murmured Sebastian. "Someone's eager for it. You sure you don't usually bottom? Because you're taking this like a fucking pro."

"Fuck you," muttered Carson as Sebastian worked his way up to three fingers, fucking them in and out roughly. He was just taking Carson, and it actually felt so fucking good. As though Carson had really needed something like this, someone else taking the reins for him for a little bit. He didn't even feel like telling Sebastian anymore that the client he'd paid off had only technically paid for a blowjob, because at this point, he wanted to be fucked. Sebastian didn't really have to know.

"Enough with the finger banging," he breathed out in exasperation. "Let's get this show on the road. Fuck me already."

"As you wish, Princess," Sebastian replied, pulling his fingers out with a pop. Carson held himself up while Sebastian expertly reached into his pocket and came up with a tiny bottle of lube and a condom, both of which he set about opening while Carson stared in disbelief.

"You just carry that shit everywhere, huh?"

"It never hurts to be prepared," Sebastian replied as he pulled himself out of his pants without actually bothering to take them off. He slipped the condom on and lathered his erection before giving Carson a cocky grin.

"Hold on, babe," he warned as he lined himself up and began to push in. The stretch burned, and Carson bit down on his lip to keep from crying out. He didn't want to risk Sebastian slowing down, he wanted him to just get on with it and fuck him hard. He whimpered slightly in spite of himself, but Sebastian kept going, pushing his length all the way inside of him until he had bottomed out. Carson reached his hands underneath Sebastian's T-shirt, his nails digging into skin as he buried his face in Sebastian's shoulder.

"Oh god.. ungh… fuck," he groaned as Sebastian pulled out and pushed roughly back in. He locked his legs around the other boy and moaned out his pleasure as Sebastian started pounding into him harder, pushing him roughly up against the wall with each thrust.

For several minutes, all that count be heard was moans and animalistic grunts as Sebastian rocked into him, alternating his speed and groaning into Carson's ear as he breathed against his neck, his hot breath contrasting sharply with the way Carson was shivering uncontrollably. When Sebastian changed angles slightly and finally managed to hit his prostate, Carson swore and bit his lip so hard he could have sworn he drew blood.

"Ungh… oh fuck… god, fuck me… harder… god," he babbled as Sebastian dug his nails into his ass where he was holding him up and thrust obediently harder. Carson snaked a hand between them and wrapped it around his aching dick, desperate for relief, but ended up squeaking in protest as Sebastian carried him across the room and flopped down onto the bed, pulling Carson into a sitting position on top of him. He lifted him up and dropped him back down onto his cock, and Carson moaned, going with the flow and starting to ride Sebastian like his life depended on it.

It didn't take very long, just several minutes of this new position, before Sebastian reached out and wrapped his own hand around Carson's erection, stroking him steadily as a huge volcano of an orgasm brewed in Carson's lower stomach.

"I want you to come," Sebastian ordered. "Fucking come," he repeated as he tugged Carson's cock, and Carson bounced harder down on him as he moaned.

"Fuck!" Sebastian hissed, arching his back and pulsating inside of him as he came, filling up the condom as his hand never stopped moving on Carson. Carson followed him shortly, screaming incoherently as everything inside him exploded and he saw stars behind his eyes, his dick spurting long, thick ropes of pearly white onto Sebastian's chest.

They stayed there in that position for a moment, coming down from their highs and breathing as if they'd been deprived of oxygen for days. Carson wasn't sure what he was supposed to say or do, so he settled on "Oh my fuck."

"Told you we'd have fun," Sebastian quipped in between gasps of air, and Carson reached out and slapped him before dismounting.

"Yeah, yeah, you got your fucking money's worth," he muttered as he collapsed onto his back, hissing in pain as he realized just how sore his ass was. "Ugh, I'm not going to be able to walk for a while."

"So I guess no round two?" pouted Sebastian.

"Fuck you, I'm taking a fucking nap."

"And then round two?"

"Not unless you have more money stashed around you want to waste."

"We'll see," Sebastian murmured as he handed Carson a wet wipe to clean off with. "We will see."