"Come on!" exclaimed Carson, sighing in exasperation as he stopped walking and waited for Kurt to catch up with him. "Visiting hours are short, Kurt. And if we don't make the next bus, I won't get to see her again until tomorrow."

"Ok, ok. Keep your balls on. I'm coming," replied Kurt, giving his hair one last pat in the store window he was checking himself out in. Deciding that he looked, as usual, flawless, he hurried to catch up with Carson and gave him an exaggerated pat on the shoulder. "I was just making sure that I looked my absolute best."

"I hate to break this to you, but your hair doesn't look any different now than it looked two minutes ago," Carson grumbled. "Besides, I highly doubt that Grandma cares what your hair looks like."

"Yeah, but some of those cute orderlies might," quipped Kurt, enjoying the slight scowl that crossed his twin's face at the words. "Especially the one with the really nice ass. What was his name? John?"

"It's Sean, and I'm pretty sure he's both married and straight," said Carson. "And even if he wasn't, I would very highly disapprove of you looking at his ass. Or him looking at your... um... hair."

Kurt smiled to himself on the inside as they reached the bus stop, even though on the outside he was rolling his eyes. He actually really liked when Carson went all protective big brother on him, even if he pretended to be annoyed by it most of the time. It was a welcome change, seeing as how, throughout most of their lives, it had usually seemed to fall to Kurt to be the protective one. For two boys raised in the same house by the same parents, they had had significantly different experiences growing up. Kurt had experienced what most people would probably call a golden childhood. He had always been the favored twin, the one who, in the eyes of their parents, could do no wrong. He'd been spoiled and coddled since birth, and had had every type of affection, attention, and luxury showered on him as much as possible. He was always the first to get new clothes and shoes, the one who got the nice school supplies, the one who got the most (and nicest) presents at Christmas and his birthday, and the one whose achievements were bragged about far and wide, particularly by their father.

Carson, on the other hand, had not experienced quite such a nice upbringing. For reasons that Kurt didn't quite understand and wasn't sure that he wanted to, the fact that they had twins instead of just one child was something that seemed to perpetually piss off Neal and Sheryl Phillips, and they made damn sure that Carson never forgot it. Even when they were kids, it had always broken Kurt's heart just a little every time one parent or the other said something horrible, demeaning, or outright cruel to his twin.

"Who the hell did I piss off in my last life to be cursed with you?" their mother would say when four year old Carson had trouble learning to tie his shoes and had to ask for help every time they came undone in public.

"This kid is way more goddamn trouble than he's worth," their father said when the boys' teacher in Year 2 called their parents in for a meeting over the questionable age appropriateness of Carson's history report.

"I would have had that abortion in the nineties, but then I wouldn't have my Kurt," their mother said all the time, even to this very day.

Carson was always the one being yelled at, always the one being punished for something he may or may not have even done, and hardly ever being shown affection. He was the scapegoat who got blamed for every unpleasant thing in their parents' lives, and Kurt honestly could not understand why they treated him that way. Once you managed to hack your way through his tough exterior, Carson was really a sweetheart. Not that he showed that side of himself to anyone very often. The older he got, the more closed-off and defensive he became. Kurt was one of the lucky few who got to see beyond that side of his twin, and he was grateful for it.

Despite the drastically different ways they'd been treated growing up, sibling rivalry had, strangely enough, never really been a big problem. In fact, the twins had always been incredibly close. They played together, told each other everything they would never tell anyone else, and generally looked out for each other. Carson was the tough, protective big brother, and Kurt had always made it his mission to look out for Carson in any way he could. That was one of the places where being the "angelic, innocent" twin who never got in trouble worked in Kurt's favor. He was able to get revenge on anyone who dared to fuck with Carson, and nobody could say a damn thing about it. He'd discovered this in Year 2 when he successfully made Noah Puckerman pay for trying to steal Carson's lunch money by sticking one foot out and tripping him right in front of the playground monitor, who had only peered sternly at Puck over the rim of her glasses and barked at him to be more careful.

And, of course, it went without saying that anyone who messed with Kurt had a very angry Carson on their hands to deal with.

Not that they didn't engage in their fair share of biting sibling banter.

"Finally," Carson mumbled as the bus shuttled up to them and stopped, opening the door for them to get on. "After you," he said, gesturing for Kurt to go first.

"Age before beauty," Kurt quipped, and Carson rolled his eyes as he climbed onto the bus and slumped down into an empty seat.

"Clever one, you are," he muttered. "Clever little shit."

"You'd be lost without me, and you know it," chided Kurt, following him on and plopping down in the seat beside him. "Honestly. Without me, where would you be?"

"An only child?" Carson supplied. "Although, I don't really see how that would benefit me very much. I probably would have been locked in a cupboard under the stairs my whole life, or something."

"Hey, now. Hush," Kurt said, bumping their shoulders together.

"You know it's true," said Carson matter-of-factly. He was beginning to get the fiery glint in his eye that he got whenever they went to visit their grandmother in the assisted living home where she now resided instead of with the Phillips family, where she had lived for several years after her husband had passed away. Unfortunately, the onset of Alzheimer's had caused her to become too much of a burden for Sheryl and Neal to deal with, so off to the home she'd been sent. Both boys had been sad about this, but Kurt knew Carson felt it more. It was understandable, really. Before she'd gotten sick, Grandma had been the only adult in their lives who had treated Carson like a human being deserving of love and affection. She'd loved both boys equally, of course, but she and Carson had always seemed to have an especially close connection. She'd understood him in a way most adults, especially their parents, didn't. Kurt knew how much it hurt him, personally, that she could no longer remember them now. He could only imagine how much it tortured Carson.

They sat in silence throughout the bus ride, Kurt listening to his headphones and Carson staring broodingly out of the window until they reached their stop. Kurt hurried to keep up with Carson as his twin got off the bus and sprinted down the street to the familiar grey brick building that they had visited at least three times a week for the past three years.

"Hi, Julian," Carson greeted the receptionist as they entered. "How is she today?"

"She's having a pretty good day today, actually," the young guy behind the desk replied. "You can go right on in. Hi, Kurt," he added, looking over at Kurt and giving him a flirty smile.

"Hi, honey," said Kurt, smiling and waving and making sure to make his ass wiggle just so as he and Carson headed down the hall toward their grandmother's room.

"Hi, Kuuurt," Carson said, mocking Julian's greeting and scowling. "Honestly."

"He was just flirting," said Kurt.

"He's too old for you," replied Carson.

"You think everybody is too old for me." Kurt couldn't really explain why, even to himself, but he sort of really liked it when Carson got all pissy whenever Kurt and a guy got flirty. It made him feel... something. Something very weird. He had a feeling he probably shouldn't enjoy it so much when his own twin acted like a jealous boyfriend. On the other hand, it was kind of hot.

They reached Grandma's room and Carson pushed the door open, revealing her sitting up in bed and working away steadily at a project with her knitting needles. She looked up at them as they entered, confusion clouding her face.

"What's this?" she asked. "Who are you?" Kurt didn't have to look at Carson's face to know that it had fallen into a look of poorly disguised sadness. Those words felt like a knife in the gut to Kurt, no matter how many times he heard them. He couldn't even imagine how they made Carson feel.

"We're... we're, um... visitors," Carson replied, swallowing and pasting a smile on his face.

"Oh!" Grandma exclaimed, smiling and putting her needles down. "Visitors! Well, isn't this nice. I hardly ever get those. Won't you sit down?" she asked, indicating the two chairs beside her bed.

"Thank you," said Kurt, taking Carson by the hand and leading him over to the chairs. They sat down and exchanged a look before turning their attention back to Grandma.

"So," said Carson, clearly trying to sound bright and cheery. "How are you today?"

"Oh, I'm quite lovely, thank you," she replied, smiling at them and holding up her knitting project for them to inspect. "I've been working on this today. It's for one of my grandsons."

"Oh," said Kurt. "That's very nice."

"Yes," she said, still smiling as she looked fondly down on it. "Carson will love it. I hope. He never comes to visit me anymore. He and his brother used to visit me all the time."

There was silence for a minute, and then Carson drew a breath and nodded. "I'm sure he'll love it," he said. "It's very nice."

"You two remind me of them," Grandma said, squinting at the boys. "My grandsons, I mean. Except they're still young. They're not big boys yet, like you. But you do remind me of them. I haven't seen them in a long time. I get worried, you know. Not so much about Kurt, you see. He's a happy kid, gets along with everyone. I worry about Carson more. He tries to be such a tough little guy, but he's such a lonely soul. All that negative energy, you know, it's not good for him. I thank God he has his brother, at least. If I can't be there with him anymore, I'm glad he has Kurt."

Kurt could practically feel Carson breaking down slowly beside him, and he had a feeling that it was only going to be a matter of time before his twin couldn't handle this anymore and had to leave.

He was right. Carson lasted about six more minutes before he politely said his goodbyes to Grandma and excused himself from the room. Kurt watched him go and got up from his own chair, giving Grandma an apologetic smile.

"I should go, too," he said. "I'll see you later."

"Ok," she agreed, going back to her knitting. "Do come again. Oh, and if you happen to see my grandsons, can you tell them to come visit sometime? I really do miss them."

"I'll do that," Kurt croaked, trying not to tear up as he waved goodbye and followed Carson out of the room. He looked down the hallway in both directions, but his twin was nowhere to be found.

"Shit," Kurt cursed, quickly hurrying out of the building and ignoring Julian's shout of "See you next time, Kurt!" He found Carson slumped on the ground on the side of the building, his back against the wall and his arms wrapped around his knees.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking up at Kurt with an embarrassed look. "I just... I can't take much of that. You know?"

"I know," Kurt assured him, sitting down beside him and staring straight ahead. "She just keeps getting worse. At least this was one of her good days."

"Yeah," Carson mumbled, using the toe of his sneaker to push at a small pebble in front of him. "I just... this shit isn't fucking right. She shouldn't be in there. She should be home with us. And Dad is too much of an asshole to understand that. And Mom... that's her own goddamn mother, you know? And she just goes along with whatever he says." He fished a cigarette from the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt and stuck it in his mouth, retrieving a lighter from his other pocket and flicking it. He took a long drag from the cigarette and let the breath out slowly.

"I know," agreed Kurt, wanting to pat Carson's hand or his shoulder, but knowing that his twin was very bristly when he was in this sort of mood and was best left alone until it blew over. "It sucks."

"It fucking sucks," Carson scowled. "It's bullshit, all of it."

"It is," agreed Kurt.

"Dad's a fucker."

Kurt couldn't really disagree with that, either. "Biggest fucker ever."

"Now you're just patronizing me," Carson grumbled, but he was starting to look a little more relaxed.

"I assure you, I'm not," said Kurt.

"Yes you are."

"Fine, I am."

"Shithead."

"Tosser."

"And Julian the receptionist is too old for you," Carson said, swiftly changing the subject in a way that Kurt knew meant he didn't want to talk about it anymore. "He just wants in your pants.

"Mmm. I know," said Kurt, relieved that the edge had been taken off, even if he knew perfectly well that his twin was only bottling up more emotions inside to add to what was undoubtedly quite a collection. "And how do you know that I don't want him in my pants?"

"Over my dead body," Carson declared. "He'll keep his hands to himself and he'll like it."

"Whatever you say, big brother," said Kurt coolly, getting up and offering his hand to Carson. "Come on. Up you go. We've got stuff to do."

"Oh?" asked Carson. "And what, pray tell, would this "stuff" entail?"

"I thought we'd do a bit of shopping," said Kurt cheekily, dragging Carson down the street.

"Ugh, you know I hate that," Carson complained, dragging his feet.

"Not shopping," Kurt clarified, rolling his eyes and looking back at his twin. "I meant... you know. Shopping. The kind that always cheers you up." He looked at Carson with his eyebrow raised in suggestion, and Carson caught on quickly.

"Oooh," he said, nodding and smiling. "Right. Shopping. Where to, then?" Kurt grinned and gripped his hand tightly, leading him down the street and past many shops. None of those shops would do. The twins never made it a habit to shoplift in the same place too often, and besides, there was a very lovely scarf Kurt had had his eye on for a while, now. He wanted to at least visit it.

"This place," he declared when they reached their destination, a mid-sized but suitably fancy department store.

"New target," mused Carson, taking it in and nodding in approval. "Fun. What do we know about security procedures in this place?"

"Nothing," said Kurt with a shrug. "But I guess we'll learn. You first, or me?"

"Me," Carson said quickly. "I need a rush like you don't even fucking know. I'll wait out here for a minute. You go in there and work your magic."

Kurt nodded. He held his head high and made his way confidently inside the store, heading first for the display of men's scarves in the front and silently drooling over the cerulean blue one he had his eye on for a moment. He'd make it his another day, when it was his turn. For now, though, he needed to scope out a distraction. Fortunately, there was only a handful of browsing customers and one very bored looking salesgirl on the floor. Piece of cake.

"Can I help you find something?" she asked, perking up a little when she saw Kurt and getting the tell-tale "Oh my god, super hot guy!" gleam in her eye that Kurt was used to inciting in people of all genders.

"I sure hope so, honey," Kurt replied, pouring on the charm and giving her his most winning grin as he saw Carson casually strolling his way in. "You see, I'm on the hunt for a new belt to go with these pants," he continued, trailing a hand lightly down his torso until it reached the top of his pants and began toying with his belt. He sighed dramatically and hung his head. "I just don't think that this one goes very well. Do you?" he asked.

The salesgirl's gaze followed Kurt's hand, and she swallowed as she looked upon the area it was indicating, her cheeks flushing a little. "Um... well, it's a very... you have a nice... it's a lovely belt," she stammered out.

"Hmm," murmured Kurt thoughtfully. "I suppose it is. I mean, it's ok. I'm just not sure it's making the statement I want it to make."

"Well, what statement do you want it to be making?" the girl asked, clearly trying to avert her eyes from Kurt's pants and failing spectacularly, much to Kurt's amusement.

"Mostly just "Nice belt," answered Kurt. "Perhaps it's the color that's the problem. Maybe if it was... well... like this color, for instance," he said, pointing down at the girl's wrist and indicating the dark blue rubber bracelet she wore. "May I?" he asked.

"Yes. Please," the girl replied, offering Kurt her hand. Kurt took it, hiding an amused smile as he pretended to inspect the bracelet.

"You know?" he said after a moment, making sure to give the girl's wrist a soft stroke with his thumb as he let go of it. "I think that's just the color I'm looking for. How do you think it would look in place of this?" he asked, pointing at his belt and jutting his hips out a little to accentuate his body ever so slightly."

"Hot," breathed the girl.

"That's what I figured," said Kurt with a nod. "Thank you, miss. You've saved my life."

"You're.. welcome?" she replied, looking dazed as Kurt blew her a kiss and sauntered out of the store, making sure to walk in just the right way so that his ass looked its best. Nothing wrong with giving her a little show on my way out, is there?

He leaned up against the outside of the building, examining his nails and looking straight ahead when Carson parked himself next to him, looking pleased with himself.

"Mission accomplished?" asked Kurt casually.

"Mission accomplished," replied Carson.

"What'd you get?"

"I'll show you in a minute," said Carson. They walked back toward the bus stop, and only after they'd reached it did Carson finally reach into his bag, retrieving something from it and proudly presenting it to Kurt.

"Carson!" Kurt gasped when he saw what it was. It was his scarf, the exact one he'd had his eye on and had been planning to get for himself when he had the opportunity.

"I saw you looking at it," Carson said. "It's pretty. You know... for a stupid scarf. It kind of matches your eyes."

Kurt looked at him and smiled, stroking the fabric of the scarf gently with his fingers. "Thank you," he said, leaning forward to plant a gentle kiss on Carson's cheek. He could have sworn his twin's cheeks flushed a bright pink as he did so, but then again, he realized, it could have just been the cold air.

"Yeah, well... " said Carson, clearing his throat. "It was nothing. Hey, bus is here," he said, changing the subject quickly. "Beauty before age," he added, gesturing for Kurt to go first. This time, Kurt did.

Autumn continued to drag on and on, and Kurt grew more and more disillusioned with school. Although he was, by all accounts, a bright student, he just found school in general very dull. He wasn't at all like Carson, who, even though he bitched plenty about the less than intelligent specimens he was forced to attend school with, still enjoyed most of his classes, particularly those which involved a lot of writing. The only class he despised, which Kurt could sympathize with entirely, was any and all types of mathematics.

Both twins hated math with an equal passion, and it was quite torturous to be forced to sit in class day after day, solving problems that just seemed to be a stupid waste of time. Really, who cared what x equaled? Kurt wasn't bad at math, but he didn't see why the hell he needed to know any of that. He highly doubted that when he made it to the big time, whether that be in the fashion industry or the stage, that he would ever be forced to tell anyone what x equals.

"Well, actually," Carson had told him on more than one occasion, "You could probably make good use of that knowledge in the fashion world. Like, for measuring and shit. I don't know. It could be useful. All I know is, it's about as useful as tits on a broom in the journalism world."

"It's still one hell of a bullshit class," Kurt always retorted with a grumble.

He was sitting at his desk one November afternoon, excruciatingly bored and doodling various outfit designs in his notebook instead of actually taking notes, thinking about how much he would rather have been literally anywhere else. His eye caught Carson's from across the aisle, and they smirked at each other while Ms. Ellis droned on and on about formulas and rules.

"Would anybody like to take a whack at the problem on the board?" she asked, her eyes scanning the room for volunteers.

"I will," spoke up Seth Parker, getting up from his seat and shuffling quickly up to the board. Kurt went back to his doodles. His friend was a classic overachiever, which came in handy sometimes whenever Kurt needed help with his course work and Carson was just as confused as he was. Seth could stand there and show off for a bit, and hopefully that would spare anyone else (or, more specifically, Kurt) from having to go up there.

He tuned everything out, focusing intently on an outfit he was creating in his mind that beautifully incorporated the scarf Carson had stolen for him. He was so lost in his own little world that the sound of Ms. Ellis screeching "Mr. Phillips!" actually startled him. He looked up, gulping when he realized that everybody was suddenly looking at him.

"Mr. Phillips!" barked Ms. Ellis again.

"Yes?" Kurt asked. The class tittered.

"Since you seem to find the subject matter so very dull, would you care to come up to the board and demonstrate the vast knowledge you seem to no doubt possess?" she asked, holding out a dry erase marker like it was some kind of offering.

Kurt sighed and shrugged. "Whatever," he said, closing his notebook and sauntering up to the board. At least I look hot today, he thought, taking the time to wiggle his hips in the most tantalizing way he knew how. He was wearing new jeans today, and they were very, very tight due to not quite being broken in. His internal radar assured him that there were at least a couple of closet cases in that class, and he figured he might as well give them some free entertainment.

"Solve the problem, please, Mr. Phillips," ordered Ms. Ellis, handing him the dry erase marker and leaning back against her desk with her arms folded. Kurt resisted the urge to roll his eyes and took the marker, peering at the problem he was meant to be solving. Well. This isn't too evil, he thought with relief as he set to work solving it. He realized an error and went to erase it, dropping the marker on the floor in the process as several giggles erupted behind him.

Oh, toss off, he thought, bending down to pick up the dropped instrument. He could definitely feel how tight his new pants were as he did so. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who noticed. When he stood back up with his marker, he realized that almost everyone was looking at him again, and that most of them were looking either awed or flushed.

Power of the pants, he thought triumphantly, his gaze settling on Carson. His twin was definitely blushing as plain as day, and Kurt felt his heart skip a beat when he realized that even his own brother had been staring at his ass. He thought he should probably be weirded out by this, but he wasn't. It was actually sort of empowering, really, knowing that he had that kind of effect on guys. Even... well. Related guys.

"Uh, you got the ass... erm... answer... correct," Ms. Ellis stammered as Kurt finished the last few bits of the problem and capped the marker. He kept his eyes on Carson and noticed a scowl pass his twin's face as their teacher spoke. Oh, Carson, honey.

He walked back to his seat, making extra sure to walk as seductively as he was able (which was pretty good for a complete virgin, he thought). He caught Carson's eye and raised one eyebrow at him, causing Carson to blush more and suddenly become very interested in his own notebook.

Hmm, Kurt thought, going back to his doodles. Interesting. What's going on in that brain of yours, Carsey? More importantly, he thought, why was it not freaking him out in the slightest that his own twin had been checking him out? Not that he hadn't checked out Carson's ass once or twice. Or, you know... a lot. Those jeans he wore hugged his ass just right, and Kurt was only human, after all.

What did it all mean?

He decided to have some fun with it the next day during English. The lights had been turned off and the class was meant to be watching a film adaptation of Romeo and Juliet, which Kurt thought was a complete waste of time, considering that it was not the Leonardo DiCaprio version. He took the opportunity to join Carson in the back of the room, where his twin had laid claim to one of the extra swivel chairs and was casually playing with his phone, clearly intent on not paying attention to the film.

"Got a free lap?" asked Kurt, and he saw Carson's shoulders tense up just a little before his twin put the phone away and looked up at him, nodding.

"Yeah," he replied, patting his lap and holding his arms out. "Come on, then." Kurt smiled and settled himself down into Carson's lap, relishing the feel of his twin's arms holding him firmly around the waist. Well, that shouldn't feel as good as it does, should it?

"Comfy?" asked Carson, whispering in his ear. Kurt nodded.

"Yeah," he said, wiggling around a bit. Carson took in a sharp breath.

"You ok?" asked Kurt.

"Fine," said Carson. "Watch the movie."

Kurt actually did try to watch the movie, but something much more interesting was keeping his mind off of it. Every time he moved, even a little bit, he could feel Carson tensing up under him. Only slightly, but it was definitely there. He wiggled a bit more, and with more deliberate movement, just to make sure that it wasn't his imagination.

And then he felt something happening in Carson's lap that made his whole face flush what he could only imagine was probably a very deep shade of scarlet. And from the feel of his twin's body, Carson was about two seconds away from fainting right there in the chair.

Oh my Christ. OH MY FUCK. Is he... he's... oh god, he's getting a stiffy. What do I do? WHAT THE HELL DO I DO? Do I... should I get off his lap? I... but... well, that would embarrass him more, wouldn't it? I... actually, it feels really nice... damn it, Kurt, no. That shit is wrong.

But it DOES feel nice, though...

He wiggled again without really meaning to, which only served to make the bulge under his ass bigger and Carson's breathing shallower. He smiled to himself and wiggled again, moving his hips in a circle and grinding them down ever so slightly. Carson inhaled sharply and actually tried shifting, presumably to get Kurt's ass off of his erection, but that was much easier said than done.

"Um.. shit... Kurt.." Carson whispered as Kurt ground down again. "What the hell?"

"I'm sorry," Kurt replied, playing innocent. "I didn't realize Little Carson was such an eager little fellow."

"Oh my GOD, Kurt, you're my brother," Carson hissed as quietly as possible.

"I don't think Mr. Happy realizes that," quipped Kurt.

"Kurt!"

"Ok, ok," sighed Kurt. He stopped circling his hips, and Carson gently removed him from his lap and stood up from the chair. "I'm sorry," he said apologetically, even though he was unable to hold in his smile. "I just... I felt it right there, and I couldn't resist screwing with you a little."

"And I promise you that you'll pay dearly for this, but right now I need to visit the loo," mumbled Carson, giving Kurt a half hearted punch on the shoulder and quietly sneaking out of the classroom. Kurt slumped down in the abandoned chair and contemplated what the hell had just happened. Had he really just ground his ass down on his own brother's dick?

Well, yeah. Yeah, he had. But why? And why had he enjoyed it so much?

And what is he doing in the bathroom right now? Kurt wondered, a shiver running down his spine as he thought of the possibilities before shaking himself out of that mindset. Jesus, I need help.

Needless to say, both boys silently vowed never to speak of the incident again.

Christmas came without much fanfare, as was often the case in the Phillips family now that the boys were no longer children. Although, even then, it had usually been more like an endless parade of guilt for Kurt as he was showered with presents while Carson received cheaper, shoddier versions of them at best and token trinkets at worst. That had finally come to an end when Kurt couldn't stand it anymore and had started sneaking under the tree each Christmas Eve, carefully replacing the name tags on half of his own presents with ones that bore Carson's name. He'd never gotten in trouble for it, probably because Grandma was usually there with them on Christmas Day, but from then on, the presents had started getting a bit more equal.

This Christmas had been pretty typical. Everyone had exchanged presents in the morning, followed by the traditional loud fight between their parents over a trivial matter while the boys escaped upstairs to give each other their own gifts. Kurt had given Carson a fancy fountain pen filled with blue ink and inscribed with his initials, and Carson had presented Kurt with a gorgeous brooch in the shape of a cat.

"It kind of reminded me of you," said Carson as Kurt pinned the brooch to his shirt.

"I remind you of a cat?" asked Kurt, giving him an amused smile.

"Very much so."

"Thanks?"

"Any time."

Christmas afternoon was spent with the family (minus Neal, who couldn't have cared less) making the trek to the assisted living home to pay Grandma a visit. Kurt honestly worried for Carson, who had a hard enough time dealing with these visits without the added element of their mother being there with them. It was easy enough to see that his twin was going to reach a breaking point sooner than normal. Sure enough, not even five minutes into the visit, Carson's face was a proverbial storm cloud.

"How can you stand to see her in there?" Carson snapped at Sheryl when they had said their goodbyes and left, walking back out onto the cold and snowy street.

"Hey, it's not any easier for me than it is for you," Sheryl snapped back. "But there's not much I can do about it, is there?"

"That's bullshit," retorted Carson. "She belongs at home, and if you really gave a shit, you'd realize that and tell him to take a hike."

"You watch your mouth, young man," said their mother angrily. "He's your father."

"Yeah, whatever the hell that means," muttered Carson. "There was nothing wrong with having her at home."

"Listen, I have a hard enough time dealing with you at home, let alone her, too," Sheryl snapped. "You know what, I'm going home. Or to a bar. I need a drink. I'll see you at home later," she said, addressing the last sentence to Kurt before hurrying away from them down the street. The boys stood there in the middle of the sidewalk, Carson glaring angrily into space and Kurt feeling the familiar tightness in his stomach he always felt whenever members of his family were at each other's throats. Which was practically always.

"I guess it's a traditional Phillips family Christmas, then, hmm?" said Kurt after a moment, trying to diffuse the tension.

"I hate them," muttered Carson, bristling when Kurt tentatively tried to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"I know," said Kurt sympathetically.

"Bullshit. It's all such fucking bullshit, Kurt."

"I know," Kurt said again. He took Carson's hand in his, and Carson eventually relaxed enough to grip it back. "Come on. Let's go find something to do and salvage the rest of Christmas, shall we?"

"Let's find a party," said Carson. "Sheryl's not the only one who needs to get hammered right about now."

Kurt smiled. That was the Carson he knew and loved.

Loved in an entirely brotherly way, obviously.