Those few, frenzied minutes on Sebastian's bed were far from the end of the weekend's festivities. In fact, Carson spent a significant portion of the weekend underneath Sebastian in various positions as the other boy made damn sure he got every penny's worth of value out of him. Occasionally, the location would move to the shower, but for the most part, Carson became close, intimate buddies with Sebastian's mattress.

"Seriously, you wanna…. fuck…. you wanna go a little easier?" Carson complained several times, his mouth almost permanently stuck hanging open as he let out small moans every time Sebastian pounded into him.

"I don't believe I paid for easy," Sebastian replied, his lips brushing against Carson's ear as he plastered his chest to his back and rocked in and out. "Well, ok, I did pay for… ah…. easy, but only in the "guaranteed lay" sense of the word… fuck…" He punctuated his words with a small bite to Carson's neck, and Carson hissed in response. His hand moved between his legs and Sebastian batted it away roughly, holding it behind his back with one hand as he continued thrusting.

"Ok, what the fuck, I don't even get to...aaaah…. c-come?" Carson protested, his words shaking as Sebastian kept up his relentless pace.

"No. You bitch too much, so no coming this time. Maybe next time."

"You're such an ass."

"I know," Sebastian replied with a grin as he grabbed Carson around the hips and pulled him on and off of his dick.

In short, Sebastian didn't let his body have a moment's peace all damn weekend.

His ass was still sore as hell on Monday morning, and as he tried his best to limp his way to his locker without making it look like he was limping, he seriously wondered whether the headmaster would be amused if he cited work related injuries as a reason for skipping the day altogether.

Seriously, how am I meant to sit in class all day like this? He wondered to himself as he absentmindedly spun his locker combination and pulled the door open. Fucking Sebastian and his stupid huge dick. He's lucky he's a rich bastard.

"Hey, babes," came a voice from behind him, and Carson turned his head to glare at Sebastian as he reached into the locker for his math book. "Feeling a little stiff this morning, are we?" the boy added, his face stretching into that infuriating, toothy grin of his.

"Ok, first of all, do not call me babes unless you're going to slip me a fiver," Carson mumbled as he shoved his book into his bag. "Secondly, you can go fuck yourself. If I'd known I was going to have mobility issues after a weekend at your house, I'd have insisted on charging you a hell of a lot more."

"Oh, I'd have thought that a temporary limp was a given," Sebastian replied, still grinning as Carson accidentally hit himself in the ass with his bag and winced in discomfort. "You knew I like to play rough."

"Yes, well, if I threw my ass out, it's coming out of your pocket if I can't work," Carson grumbled as he added a second book to his bag.

"I thought you said you don't usually bottom," Sebastian pointed out.

"That's beside the point."

"Don't worry, I'll give your ass time to heal before I hire you out again," the other boy promised.

"You're a prince," Carson said sarcastically, zipping his bag closed and slamming his locker door shut. "Shouldn't you be at your morning glee meeting?"

"I'm waiting until I'm sure Beanie has finished dropping Kurt off, so I'm not subjected to the sight of them making out in the hall outside the choir room," replied Sebastian. "Not that I care, mind you, but the sight of so much tongue this early in the morning is just a bit nauseating. Even if it's Kurt's tongue." He gave a small, indignant sniff that betrayed just how much it did bother him, and Carson rolled his eyes.

"Oh yeah, no, you totally don't care," he said, shaking his head. "That's why you spent all weekend jackhammering the ass of someone who looks just like Kurt."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short, there, Grumpy," said Sebastian brightly. "You're a pretty hot piece of ass in your own right, even when you're being an ass. I got my money's worth."

"So glad to be of service," sighed Carson.

"And speaking of service, I think you have a customer," Sebastian said, nodding behind Carson. Carson turned around and saw a guy walking toward them, looking around nervously and clutching a stack of books tightly in his arms like a shield. He paused in front of them and cast a wary look at Sebastian before turning his attention to Carson.

"Um… Carson Phillips?" he asked shyly.

"That's me, hon," replied Carson, breaking into his patented customer service grin and sticking out his hand to the other boy. "Can I help you?"

"Um… well… I mean, you don't know me, obviously, but I… could we talk privately?" the boy asked, practically in a whisper as Sebastian looked on with a bemused expression on his face.

"Of course!" Carson said cheerfully. "This guy over here was just leaving. Weren't you, Sebastian?" he asked pointedly.

"It's a free hallway," replied Sebastian defiantly. "I don't have to leave if I don't want to."

"You do if you want your genitals to stay intact," said Carson.

"I'm terrified," said Sebastian sarcastically as the look on the face of the boy in front of them grew increasingly nervous and Carson grew increasingly impatient.

"Goodbye, Sebastian!" he said, emphasizing the word and gritting his teeth. "I'm sure they're missing you in glee club."

Sebastian shook his head and wandered off down the hallway, leaving Carson alone with his prospective new client.

"Sorry about him, he thinks he's hot stuff just because he shits money," he said, giving the boy a reassuring smile. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"Um, well... I've heard that you sort of, well... that you do certain favors for... for a price?" the boy said quietly. "I mean, they said that you... that you..."

"I'll pleasure you for cash, yes," Carson replied simply, adjusting the strap of his bag and looking the boy in the eye. "Did you have something specific in mind?"

"Well, I don't know. I mean, I've never done this before," replied the boy, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a few folded notes, which he showed to Carson. "What will this get me?"

"Hmm... that'll get you a handy j in a location of your choosing," answered Carson, peering at the notes critically. "If you want to add anything beyond that, the price goes up, of course. How does that work for you?"

"That would actually be fine," said the boy, looking relieved. "So, how does this work? Do we go into the bathroom, or...?"

"Well, I've got stuff to do right now, but I have a free period in about two hours," said Carson, checking his watch. "Meet me in the library then and bring your junk, and we'll get down to business."

"The... the library?" the boy asked incredulously.

"Oh, relax, it's totally fine," Carson reassured him. "When you're in the classic literature stacks, nobody will ever even know you're there. Literally nobody ever goes there, because that would imply that they're looking for a book to read, and we all know that most people in this godforsaken school can barely read or write." In actuality, normally, he probably would not have suggested the library, but he knew damn well that Sebastian knew he was conducting business at the moment, and he still suspected that it was him who had ratted him out to the headmaster the week before. Therefore, he was taking no chances on a bathroom. At least, not this time.

"Well... ok," the boy said slowly. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure. See you then, hon," said Carson, making his fake grin wider for emphasis before hurrying along down the hallway as well as he could, considering that it felt as though he had a sharp, metal spike residing in his ass courtesy of Sebastian. It took him ten minutes to finally reach his first class, and he winced in pain as he sat himself down on the metal seat attached to his desk. He reminded himself that a bit of soreness every now and again was just the price he would have to pay if he wanted to build himself a nice nest egg.

Every job as its hazards, I guess, he thought as he shifted in his seat and opened his book and notebook. Although, I'm probably going to need to invest in some kind of seat cushion to carry around with me.

The first part of the morning passed quickly, and soon it was time to meet his client. He headed straight for the classic literature section when he entered the library, finding the boy standing in the corner there and looking like he was about two seconds away from changing his mind and fleeing the scene. He noticed Carson and suddenly looked even more nervous, giving him a small smile as Carson set his bag down and leaned against a shelf, looking the boy over carefully.

"You've still got those notes in your pocket, I trust?" he said quietly, and the boy nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the money.

"Do I pay you first?" he asked curiously.

"If you want my hands to go anywhere near your junk, then yes," replied Carson. "I don't perform until cash has passed hands." The boy nodded and handed the money over, and Carson counted it carefully before slipping the notes into his own pocket.

"Right, then, here's what we're going to do," he said in a businesslike manner, reaching on the shelf behind him for a book. He settled himself into the corner where two shelves met, tucking his legs under himself to avoid putting any unnecessary pressure on his ass, and patted the spot beside him, inviting the boy to come sit down. The boy did, looking reluctant but also extremely curious as Carson opened the book and spread it onto his lap.

"The book is for emergency coverage, if needed," he explained, and the boy nodded. "Are we ready?"

"Ready," said the boy, nodding, and Carson smiled as he reached a hand out and gently traced his fingers down the other boy's chest before snaking them down further to the top of his jeans. He teasingly placed his palm over the denim-clad crotch, watching the boy's face as he sucked in a breath.

"Mmm," Carson murmured approvingly as he palmed him through his jeans, patiently waiting for a bulge to form. "You feel pretty decent sized. This your first time with a guy?"

"Yep," the boy replied, letting out a small, choked sound as Carson gently and expertly squeezed him through the fabric.

"Well, I'm sure it probably won't be your last. It's actually a shame you aren't paying for the full service menu, because I kind of like the idea of ruining you for all other guys forever," said Carson, seamlessly slipping into performance mode as he reached for the button of the guy's jeans and began to work it open. "But then, I guess it's better for you if I don't." He unzipped the jeans and reached his hand inside, stroking a finger along the now very prominent, bulging erection straining against the guy's underwear.

"Shit," the guy groaned quietly as Carson found the head of his dick through the fabric and started running the tip of his finger over it in slow circles.

"That's right, get that dick nice and hard for me," he whispered. He slipped his hand beneath the waistband of the underwear, letting his fingers lightly brush against the guy's bare dick, and the other boy let his head fall back against the bookshelf behind him, his eyes firmly closed, as though he couldn't bear to look at what was happening in his pants right now. That was good. Carson preferred little to no eye contact if he could possibly arrange it. Since he was kind of short on time if he wanted to actually get some studying done during his free period, he pulled his hand out and reached into his bag for his lube, pouring a tiny amount into his hand, just enough to make it slick without making a huge mess. He slipped his hand back into the guy's pants and began stroking him slowly but steadily, letting his hand twist just so every time it got back to the head.

"Ungh," the guy was moaning beside him, biting his lip to keep himself from being loud enough to alert anyone nearby what was going on. "Fuck."

"Shhh, I know, just enjoy," said Carson, increasing the speed of his stroking as the guy started to fall apart, his breath coming out in increasingly short, ragged gasps.

"Fuck… getting close…" he murmured after a minute, and Carson went into maximum overdrive, jerking him off as hard as he could through the restriction of the surrounding underwear. He felt the dick in his hand pulse and the guy let out a low groan and came just as footsteps turned a corner and the school counselor appeared, looking at the scene before him with wide eyes and a stammer of "Oh god, so sorry!"

"Shit," sighed Carson as the boy's eyes flew open, quickly assessing how very caught they were. It was almost comical the way he jumped up as quick as lightning, almost knocking into the bookcase behind him as he struggled to zip himself back into his pants, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. In about three seconds he had rushed past Carson and the counselor, disappearing around a corner and leaving Carson with a hand full of jizz as he and the counselor eyed each other awkwardly.

"That's why I always get the money up front," Carson said calmly, reaching into his bag with his clean hand for a package of wet wipes. "So, what's up?" he asked as he cleaned his hand off. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to be in trouble. The counselor, known to most of the student body as Doug, was one of those educators who was constantly trying to help kids better themselves, usually by way of long, tedious lectures about the importance of rules and safety. Most likely, Carson was going to receive a safe sex lecture or something.

So he wasn't at all surprised when Doug just fixed him with a curious look and then cleared his throat. "Well, erm… Carlton, is it?"

"Carson," Carson corrected him.

"Right. Carson, why don't you come with me to my office, hmm? Come have a chat with old Doug for a moment. Shall we do that?"

"If I have to," sighed Carson, closing up his bag and carefully standing up. Doug gingerly patted him on the shoulder and led him out of the library, opening the door to a small office halfway down the hallway outside and gesturing for Carson to go inside.

"Have a seat, then," he said, waving his hand in invitation as he settled himself at his desk, and Carson did as he was told, heaving a sigh as he took a seat across from him. At least the chair was cushioned.

There was silence for a moment as he and Doug stared at each other, and then the counselor cleared his throat and clasped his hands together in front of himself.

"Carson, it comes to mind that there have been certain pieces of gossip surrounding you lately," he began.

"Such as?" asked Carson casually.

"Well, that you've been very… free with the boys, shall we say, and-"

"Oh, no, not free at all," Carson interrupted. "Quite the opposite, in fact. I'm actually very expensive."

"Ahem. Well. Be that as it may, I think, perhaps, that we should explore why you feel the need to behave this way," replied Doug, as though Carson's words hadn't phased him in the slightest. "I'm sure you're aware that rampant sexual activity without the proper precautions can result in plenty of diseases and maladies, not the least of which are-"

"I assure you, that's not a problem," Carson interrupted again, wondering how long he would have to sit there and endure this painful conversation before he could feasibly ask to be excused. "I know all about condoms, trust me. I have a plentiful supply on me at all times."

Doug's cheeks reddened slightly, but he pressed on anyway. "Right. Of course you're being safe, and that's… that's commendable. Well done, you. However, I feel it's important that we get to the bottom of why you do what you do. Do you feel as though you have healthy self-esteem?"

Carson wasn't entirely sure how to answer that question. "I guess?" he said with a shrug. "Everyone says I'm hot, so."

"It's been my experience that this sort of acting out is, oftentimes, a cry for attention," Doug continued with a small smile that Carson couldn't tell was creepy or reassuring. "Are things ok at home?"

Oh, bloody hell, are you REALLY sure you want to know? thought Carson.

"Do you want the long version, or the abridged notes?" he replied sarcastically. "Because the long version involves teen pregnancy, a rich meerkat, and the dynamics of twin relations."

There was silence from Doug, and just as the counselor was about to open his mouth to reply, the bell indicating the end of the period finally rang.

"I'd love to stay and chat, but I have class," Carson said cheerfully, getting up from his chair and grasping the strap of his bag. "This was fun. Gotta go." He exited the office before the counselor could say anything and almost ran straight into Kurt, who was turning the corner just as Carson did the same. His twin gave him an unreadable look and then brushed right past him without a word, leaving Carson to trudge on toward his next class while convincing himself that being ignored by Kurt didn't bother him. Not in the slightest.

"So," said Mr. Schuester as he faced the glee club one afternoon later that week and excitedly clasped his hands together. "It's my pleasure to announce that we've secured the rights to perform West Side Story as our fall musical!"

The club broke out into applause, and Kurt rolled his eyes as Rachel Berry squealed and declared that she would obviously be auditioning for the role of Maria only as a formality. Kurt tuned out as she and Mercedes Jones started arguing over who would be the better Maria, because he was too busy thinking about what he was going to sing to audition for Tony. He needed to get that role. It would be the perfect distraction that he needed to stop dwelling on Carson and the various feelings and misery that went along with him. He could throw himself into this musical and not have time to think about much else, between that and his school work.

Besides, if he was going to try to attend some sort of performing arts focused university after he graduated, he was going to need to start building a good enough resume to impress the places he applied to. The lead in a musical would be just the thing he needed to make himself stand out.

"Auditions will be held at the end of next week, so start deciding which roles you'd like, and come prepared to sing," Mr. Schue continued, and Kurt tapped his pencil thoughtfully against the paper of his open notebook as he thought about which songs he could possibly use as audition pieces. Whatever he decided on had to be absolutely perfect if he was going to land that part.

"So, I assume you're auditioning for Tony, too?" Sebastian's voice pierced through Kurt's thoughts and he sighed with exasperation, refusing to make eye contact with the other boy.

"Yes, as a matter of fact," he replied icily. "And I intend to get it, so don't start getting your hopes up. We both know who has the wider vocal range and the better acting chops, so you might as well pick any stupid One Direction song you want as your audition piece, because it won't matter in the end."

"Jesus, who pissed in your cereal this morning?" asked Sebastian.

"Don't think I didn't see Carson limping in the fucking hallway on Monday, asshole," Kurt retorted in a hushed, angry whisper. "And I know he was at your place all weekend, so if you know what's good for you, you'll shut the fuck up before I give you another demonstration of exactly what kind of damage I can do to your balls."

"I didn't think you cared much about what Carson did anymore, since you started dating that old man," Sebastian said.

"Adam is in his twenties, you fuckhead, and just because I have started to move on with my life doesn't mean that I exactly appreciate knowing that you're treating my brother like your own personal whore."

"But he kind of is a whore," Sebastian pointed out.

Kurt clenched his fists to his sides and took a deep breath through gritted teeth. "Your balls, Sebastian. I swear to god I'll crush them."

"Fine. Fair enough," said Sebastian casually, and out of the corner of his eye, Kurt could see an odd look cross his face just for a moment before it settled back into his usual, give-no-fucks demeanor. "I'll see you at the auditions. May the better man get the part."

"I will," grumbled Kurt, rushing out of the choir room as soon as the bell rang and making his way as quickly as possible down the hallway before Sebastian could try to say anything else to him. Just the very thought of what he knew damn well had occurred over the last weekend made him want to throw up, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he shouldn't care.

Whatever. Fuck him, fuck Carson, fuck it all. I have an audition to prepare for, he reminded himself as he pushed through the doors and headed for the parking lot, where he knew Adam would probably already be there, waiting for him. Sure enough, his boyfriend was leaning against the door of his car, his arms folded across his chest as he calmly waited with his earbuds planted firmly in his ears. He was tapping his feet adorably in time to whatever song he was listening to, and Kurt smiled as he rushed toward him. Adam saw him coming and yanked out the earbuds, holding out his arms and wrapping Kurt in a hug when he finally closed the distance between them.

"Afternoon, love," he said, tucking his hand under Kurt's chin and letting their lips touch in a soft, tender kiss. "You look excited. Good day?"

"You could say that," Kurt replied happily, kissing Adam back and giving him a squeeze. "Auditions for a little play called West Side Story are in a few days, and guess who's auditioning for the lead role of Tony?"

"Hmmm... let me think," Adam said teasingly as he opened the passenger door for Kurt.

"Don't be cute," Kurt admonished him teasingly as he got into the car, fastening his seatbelt and settling himself into the seat primly.

"I thought you liked it when I'm cute," protested Adam as he got behind the wheel and fastened his own seatbelt.

"I do," assured Kurt, reaching over and squeezing his hand. "I'm really excited about this audition. I need a lead role to look good on my university applications, and plus, I could really use the... well, I could use something to do."

"You mean, besides me, right?" quipped Adam, and Kurt bonked him playfully on the arm.

"Yes, besides you," he agreed, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek.

"Well, I'm sure that you'll have that part in the bag," said Adam as he pulled out of the school parking lot and turned onto the road.

"Thanks, honey."

"So, home? Or do we want to stop off somewhere first?" asked Adam. "You hungry? We could go get some food."

"Food would be fantastic," agreed Kurt, and Adam nodded approvingly, turning in the direction of their favorite burger place that they tended to frequent a lot after school in the afternoons. Once they had arrived and placed their orders, they settled themselves into a booth and Adam looked over at Kurt, clasping one of his hands in his own.

"So," he said, smiling so that his dimples showed. "You have a song picked out for your audition yet?"

"Not yet," replied Kurt. "But, I was thinking of doing something outside the box, something that will show off my vocal range. Everyone will be auditioning with songs from the play, I want to stand out more than that."

"Good idea," agreed Adam, nodding.

"I know," said Kurt. "I'm just not sure what song to do. But, whatever. I'm sure it will come to me."

"It will," said Adam. "And if you need an audience to watch you practice, I'm your man."

"You're my man anyway," Kurt replied with a giggle, leaning over the table and planting a kiss on the older man's lips. "But you knew that already."

"I did," Adam said with a smile as their order number was called out. "That's us. I'll go get the food, you stay put and keep looking handsome."

Kurt settled back in his seat and smiled as he watched Adam get up and go collect the tray that contained their food. Things were looking up, indeed. He had an audition to plan, and he had an adorable boyfriend. Who needed twin brother drama, anyway? Who cared if Carson was out somewhere right now doing god knows what with god knows who in the backseat of some car?

Certainly not Kurt.

By the time audition day arrived, Kurt was more than confident that he was going to do fine. He'd decided on "I'm The Greatest Star" from Funny Girl as his audition song, after checking with Rachel to get permission first, of course. The last thing he wanted was her throwing a temper tantrum during his audition for daring to use "her" song. Thankfully, the girl hadn't seemed to care, so Kurt showed up to the school auditorium that day just itching to perform.

"Hello, Kurt," Sebastian greeted him from a seat in the front row, flashing Kurt a smile full of teeth. "Prepared?"

"Hello, Judas. Yes," replied Kurt coldly, taking a seat several seats away from him so as to maintain as much distance as possible while still having a good seat to see the other auditions.

"Nothing like some good, old fashioned rivalry. Love it," said Sebastian, staring ahead at the stage as the rest of the club filed into the auditorium, one by one. "Hope you're prepared to get a background part, because I'm about to slay my audition."

"I doubt that, horse teeth," said Kurt, adjusting his scarf and crossing his legs as he clasped his hands demurely in his lap. "My audition is going to blow yours out of the water, and it's going to be glorious."

"We'll see, angel," said Sebastian. "You're not the only talented member of this club, you know. Remember, I led a glee club at my old school."

"However could I forget? You remind everyone enough."

"Ok, guys," said Mr. Schuester from his seat in the middle of the audience, interrupting Sebastian and Kurt's verbal barb war. "We're doing lead auditions first, and then working our way down the character list. We'll be starting with Tony, so, let's see..." he consulted a slip of paper in front of him before continuing. "Sebastian, show us what you've got."

Sebastian smiled and got up on stage, handing his sheet music to the piano player and launching into a rendition of "Maria" that Kurt had to admit was pretty damn impressive.

Impressive, but not as good as what Kurt was about to lay out.

Sebastian finished and applause reigned from the club members in the audience, even from Kurt, who figured there was no harm in applauding the enemy, since he was going to end up wiping the floor with him anyway.

"Kurt," Mr Schue called out. "You're next."

"I am, indeed," said Kurt. He jumped up on stage and grinned at the scaffolding that was already taking up residence on it. He had borrowed it from Adam, who had used it in several past performances of his own show choir at university and had helped Kurt get it into the school auditorium the previous night, right before they'd gotten up to some…. well… interesting activities backstage. Carson wasn't the only one who could fuck in school.

"Hello, I'm Kurt Phillips, and I'll be auditioning for the role of Tony," he said confidently, making sure his voice reached all the way to the back, even though there wasn't anyone sitting there. "The male lead," he added.

"That's great, Kurt," said Mr. Schue.

"I'll be performing the seminal, and, in my case, semi-autobiographical Broadway classic "I'm The Greatest Star," from Funny Girl," Kurt continued. "Now, I know what you're thinking. But, I got written permission from the woman herself- Ms. Rachel Berry. And also, even though he isn't here, I'd like to thank my boyfriend Adam for allowing me the usage of his scaffolding" he continued, indicating the scaffolding in question behind him.

"I bet he let you climb his scaffolding all night long," quipped Sebastian from the front row.

"Anyway," Kurt said pointedly, ignoring Sebastian's comment, "I hope you'll consider the fact that my audition piece, although not a traditional choice, shows what I can really do with my voice."

"Great, let's hear it," prompted Mr. Schuester. Kurt smiled and began singing, losing himself in the euphoria of performing as he worked his way through the song and forgot where he was. By the time he broke out the sai swords he had decided to incorporate into the number, he was pretty sure he had the role bagged. At least, he hoped so. Sebastian's audition had been pretty good.

As he reached the final notes of the song, he could have sworn that he saw a brief flash of a face peeking down at the stage from the balcony above, watching the audition curiously from the shadows. A face that looked an awful lot like Carson. The face was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, and Kurt wasn't sure if he'd actually seen it at all, or if he'd just really wanted to. He finished his song and basked in the applause he received as Mr. Schue wrote something down in his notebook and congratulated him on a job well done.

He supposed that it didn't make him very humble, but he wasn't really that surprised when the cast list was posted several days later, bearing his name across from Tony's. He'd known that his audition was good. Why shouldn't he have gotten that part? Sure, he wasn't all that jazzed about the prospect of having to kiss Rachel, but that wasn't going to deter him from being excited anyway.

What did surprise him, however, was what he found the following morning after the cast list had been released, when he'd spun the combination on his locker and opened the door.

Nestled carefully on top of his books was a single, purple flower. A blue ribbon was tied around its stem.

"Uh…. uh…. ah…" Carson moaned, his hands clinging onto the seat for balance as he bounced up and down in the lap of the older guy underneath him, praying that it would be over relatively quickly. They were in the backseat of the guy's car, and although it wasn't the first time Carson had fucked a guy in a parking lot, it was the first time he'd done it in a parking lot near his dad's office building, with a guy he knew for certain was married. Well, ok, he hadn't known that when he'd agreed to the appointment via email, but he'd sure as hell figured it out relatively quickly as soon as they'd met up in the almost empty parking lot that night. He didn't actually care so much about the married part, but he did sort of care that a sparse, dark parking lot didn't exactly feel like the safest place in the world to be doing this.

"Ok, not that I'm going to judge you for wanting to get your freak on while wearing that snazzy wedding band, but wouldn't you be more comfortable in, like, a hotel room or something?" asked Carson as he'd slid into the car.

"Less people will see us here," the guy pointed out, sheepishly toying with the band on his finger, and Carson could have spent at least five minutes pointing out everything that was wrong with that logic, but he'd decided it wasn't worth it if he could just get it over with fast. He'd taken the money and climbed on the guy, but he would seriously need to consider making a few changes to his policy on parking lot sex.

"Ah, I'm gonna come," the guy moaned after several minutes of decidedly undignified thrusting that shook the entire car, and Carson was relieved when he finally stilled and filled the condom, pulling out quickly afterwards.

"Well done," he congratulated him as he reached for his jeans on the floor of the car. "I'm sure your spouse will be happy for the night off."

"Hey, I didn't pay you for an attitude," his client protested as he zipped himself back into his pants.

"I know, I throw that service in for free," replied Carson as he pulled his jeans on and hurriedly zipped them closed. "This was fun. You have my contact information if you ever want to do it again. Just… maybe not in a parking lot next time, hmm? I may be a whore, but I'd like to think I'm a classy whore."

"You, uh...you need a lift home or anything?" the guy asked him.

"Nah. I'm good," answered Carson. He pulled the car door open and stepped out, still struggling with the top button of his jeans and wincing a bit as he remembered he wouldn't be walking normally for a few hours. God, I fucking hate bottoming.

He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he almost didn't realize that there was anyone else in the parking lot, which was why he was just a bit startled when he finally looked up after fixing his jeans and found himself face to face with his father. He was holding a bag of takeout and was looking at Carson with a mixture of shock, embarrassment, and something else Carson couldn't quite identify, but was probably rage.

"Hi, Dad," he said, trying to sound casual after he'd recovered from the surprise of seeing him there. "Long time, no see."

His father said nothing for a moment, just took in the sight of Carson's wrinkled clothes and messy hair as his eyes wandered over to the client's retreating car.

"That's Bob Jenkins' car," he said at last in a monotone voice, after a long silence. "He works for me."

"Mmm, and now it would appear that I work for him," Carson replied, taking a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it up. "Circle of life."

"Do you mean to tell me you just…."

"I'd love to stay and chat, Dad, but I have a busy schedule to maintain," Carson said quickly, taking a drag of his cigarette and blowing the smoke in Neal's face before brushing past him, years of experience informing him that he didn't really want to be alone with his father when the man was in a bad mood, as he most probably was right now. "Do tell Bob that he might want to leave his wedding ring off next time."

"Carson, get back here," Neal ordered, reaching out and grabbing him by the arm in an attempt to pull him back.

"Fucking let go of me," Carson snapped angrily, yanking his arm back and glaring at Neal before turning back and walking away as quickly as he possibly could.

"Carson!" he heard his father call after him. "CARSON!"

Carson ignored him, hurrying away until he got around the corner and then stopped, leaning against the side of a building to smoke and collect his thoughts. He wondered what Neal would do with his newfound discovery. Most likely nothing, he reasoned, since he'd hardly given half a shit about Carson or his well-being for his entire life. Working with Bob Jenkins would probably be a bit awkward for him now, though, which, honestly, Carson found more amusing than anything else. He wondered if Bob would be fired.

Shame if he is. He paid well.

The buzzing of his phone cut into his thoughts, and he reached into his pocket for it, half hoping that the caller was Kurt, but knowing that it was unlikely to be. Not with the way Kurt had been treating him as if he didn't exist lately. It was probably Sebastian or Santana. Or his mother, wanting him to pick up milk or whatever while he was out. He looked down at his phone screen and saw a text from a number he didn't recognize. He peered at it, wondering if it was a client at first, until he saw what it said.

Hi, Carson. It's April. Remember me?

He was tempted to text back something like "No, I forgot all about you since the last time we spoke," but somehow it didn't feel right being a sarcastic ass to April. She was too nice. It would be like kicking Bambi in the nuts.

How did you get my number? was what he finally settled on sending her instead.

I stole it out of your dad's phone. Look, I was wondering, if you aren't busy tomorrow afternoon, would you mind very much meeting me downtown?

Carson looked down at his phone, frowning as he wondered what the hell was up. Not that he was a suspicious person, but, well… he was a suspicious person.

Why?

I promise, your dad won't be there, April replied quickly. I just want to talk with you, that's all. I'll understand if you don't want to.

Carson considered the request for a moment, trying to turn over in his mind all the possible motivations that could be behind it. He'd thought he'd pretty much made peace with April after the failed family dinner, so he couldn't see what she could possibly want to talk with him about. Then again, he thought, he sort of really did owe her. A quick little chat couldn't hurt. Maybe she needed a favor or something. He was a hopeless asshole, but he could do that much, couldn't he?

Where do you want me to meet you? he finally typed, sending the text off before he could change his mind.

The next day was a school holiday, so Carson had plenty of time to kill in the morning before he was meant to go meet April. Since Kurt was home, he seized the opportunity and put on his workout pants (actually just super tight boxer briefs, since this was more for showing off purposes than actual exercise ones), parking himself in his bedroom with the door wide open where Kurt would be sure to see him when he eventually passed by.

Sure enough, before very long, he heard his twin rise out of bed and start shuffling down the hallway toward the bathroom. Carson started doing the best push-ups he could (which, actually, he was getting quite good at, probably thanks to all the practice he had with thrusting lately). He grunted and made sure his ass bounced just so with every push-up, and he knew he had accomplished his mission when the footsteps stopped but never made it into the bathroom. He looked up to see Kurt standing in the hallway, his face trained down at his phone, but a red flush spreading over his pale cheeks, betraying the fact that he was actually watching Carson and trying to pretend he wasn't.

"Can I help you?" asked Carson as he let out a heavy pant, keeping one eye on Kurt to gauge how well this was working. His twin's cheeks grew redder and he sniffed, turning his phone screen off and scurrying to the bathroom without actually answering him.

No matter. He'd gotten a rise out of Kurt. Maybe even a literal one, if the speed with which he had raced to the bathroom was any indication.

Carson stopped exercising and sat up, patting his abdomen thoughtfully. He wondered if Kurt had ever found the flower he'd left in his locker after the West Side Story cast list had been released. He wasn't really sure what had come over him when he'd decided to leave it. Kurt was still pissed at him, he knew this. He didn't even leave a note or anything, so he didn't really see how Kurt could tell it came from him.

He'd just wanted to give Kurt some indication that he was proud of him for landing that lead role. Under any normal circumstances, if their relationship had been what it once was, he knew that he would have wrapped him in a big hug, kissed him, and told him that of course he'd gotten the part, who the fuck else was going to get it? Kurt was still his brother, it would have been nice to be able to support him.

Unfortunately, circumstances weren't normal, so Carson had watched Kurt's flawless audition from the auditorium's balcony, hidden behind a thick curtain, and had carefully placed the flower inside his locker. For all he knew, Kurt probably thought the flower was from Adam, but he would take that over his twin throwing it in the trash or something, knowing it came from him.

He heard the shower start up in the bathroom, then Kurt's voice starting to sing a song he assumed was from West Side Story. He listened as he continued his push-ups,, smiling privately to himself at the way his twin flawlessly hit the highest notes with ease.

Hate me all you want, Kurt, but you can never stop me from thinking that you have a hell of a singing voice.

The shower eventually stopped and Carson started up a round of sit-ups as he waited for Kurt to emerge, confident that his twin was probably going to try to sneak another peek on his way back to his own bedroom. Sure enough, he heard shuffling footsteps outside of his door and then Kurt, as subtle as a car crash, pretended to be checking his hair in the mirror hanging in the hallway when he was clearly actually checking out the view of Carson afforded him by the mirror's reflection.

"You know," spoke up Carson in between sit-ups, "If you take a photo, I guarantee you it will last a hell of a lot longer. Plus, you can wank off to it all you want."

He expected silence from Kurt, but to his surprise, his twin actually scoffed and ran his fingers nervously through his hair. "Please," he said haughtily. "Like I would want to jerk off to a picture of you when I could just look in a mirror. Besides, I have Adam."

"Ah, yes, Prince Adam of Perfect Land," replied Carson, wondering how much he could get Kurt to talk now that he'd broken through. "How is Prince Booty? Still loving big butts and not lying, I trust."

"He likes my butt just fine, thank you," retorted Kurt. "He can't get enough of it, and he's a perfect gentleman the rest of the time."

"Well, yes, I'm sure all the men who are old enough to remember when the first nickelodeons were introduced are well versed in how to be a gentleman," Carson replied. "I'm quite sure Albert is no exception."

"Ok, you know what? Fuck you. He is not that much older than me, and I'm getting really sick of everyone cracking jokes about that," snapped Kurt, glaring at Carson's reflection in the mirror. "At least he isn't off selling his dick to every gay guy in town in his spare time."

Carson ignored the slight sting he felt deep in his stomach at Kurt's words and trained his eyes on the ceiling as he performed one more sit-up. "Don't be stupid, Kurt. I don't sell myself to every guy, just the ones who can afford me."

Kurt didn't answer him after that. He just huffed and stomped off to his own bedroom, slamming the door behind him and leaving Carson to sag down onto the floor, no longer interested in sit-ups.

Ok, well. That wasn't great, but at least he's talking. I'll take shit attention.

He got up and headed into the bathroom to take his own shower after that, figuring he should probably start getting himself together before he had to go meet April. He still wondered what the fuck she could possibly want. He hoped she wasn't going to invite him or Kurt to any more dinners. He didn't think they'd survive this time around.

He got dressed and went downstairs, intent on grabbing something quick to eat before he headed out. Maybe he would go pay Grandma a quick visit before he met up with April. He made it into the kitchen and started rooting around in the cupboards, keeping one ear out to eavesdrop on his mother's side of a phone conversation. She sounded pissed, and he wondered if maybe the doctor was refusing to give her any refills on her anti-anxiety meds again.

"Listen, asshole," she was snapping into the phone as Carson shoved a cookie in his mouth and listened intently. "Where do you think you get off trying to control anything the boys do anymore?"

Oh. OH. She must be talking to Dad…. shit.

"...No, why don't you accept that you're not Carson's father anymore? You barely ever were….. So what if he's out screwing everything that moves? What business is it of ours when neither of us bothered to take the time to raise him better than that? Besides, I wonder where he learned that from, it sure as hell wasn't me…. No, you lost any right to give input on our kids a hell of a long time ago…. you know what, Neal, I'm too hung over right now to deal with this shit, I'm hanging up….. I said I'm hanging up…. asshole," she muttered, and Carson heard a clang as her phone hit the coffee table.

He just stood there in the kitchen for a minute, surprised at the conversation he'd just heard and wondering why it was making him feel so weird. He supposed that maybe it was because this was the closest thing he'd ever heard to his mother sticking up for him against his father in his whole life. It was foreign to him, hearing a parent sort of defend him. He told himself he probably shouldn't think too much of it. After all, it was highly likely that by the time Sheryl fell asleep that night, she'd forget that the conversation with Neal ever happened at all.

He peeked his head out into the living room, swallowing the last of his cookie and wondering if he should say something to her. But what? "Thank you?" Or maybe "Sorry your son's a hooker?"

He saw Sheryl turn her head and glance over at him carefully. "Going out?" she asked, taking in his clothes, and it occurred to Carson that she probably thought he was going out to meet a client, but just wasn't coming out and saying that.

"Um… yeah. Yeah, I'm going… out," he said, not wanting to go into details about where he was going. He had a feeling that bringing up April would only cause more strife than necessary.

"You look nice," Sheryl offered, and Carson had absolutely no idea how to respond to that. He couldn't remember the last time either parent had ever paid him a compliment. Possibly never.

"Uh…. thanks?" he let out, the word ending up as a cross between a statement and a question.

"You're welcome," said Sheryl. "Have a good time. Be home at a decent hour. All that parenting crap."

"I, uh…. I will," Carson said awkwardly. He headed swiftly for the door before she could say anything else and make this whole exchange any more weird than it already was, and made his way toward the bus stop that would take him to the correct part of town.

April had asked to meet him at a small cafe near the pharmacy, and Carson ended up arriving after her, spotting her familiar red hair across the restaurant and making his way toward her with an awkward wave. She stood up when he arrived at her table, giving him a quick, friendly hug and smiling at him.

"I'm so glad you decided to come," she said pleasantly.

"Yeah, it was nothing," Carson said with a shrug. There was something off about her, and it took him a minute to figure out that it was the prominent lack of the huge baby bump that had been sticking out in front of her the last time he'd seen her. "You're looking… I mean… did you already… the kid?" he asked.

"Well, as a matter of fact," April said with a smile, stepping aside and gesturing with her hand at the stroller that Carson was only just now noticing was present. He couldn't see much inside of it but a bundle of blankets, and he suddenly felt very nervous as he glanced back at April.

"Is that… it?" he asked. April laughed.

"That's him, yes," she confirmed. "His name is Max."

"Max," Carson repeated, inching closer to the stroller. He didn't want to admit to himself that he was curious about what was under all the blankets, but he sort of was. "Does Neal know you're here with him? With me? Because I don't think he'd-"

"He doesn't," April admitted. "I just…. I can't help but feel it would be a very sad thing if you never met your brother. I had hoped maybe Kurt would want to, as well, but, well. I don't know him as well as I know you, so I figured I would start with you, and… I'm so sorry."

"No, it… it's fine," said Carson, swallowing as he finally inched close enough to the stroller to see beyond the blankets. Nestled inside of them was a tiny baby, its grey eyes wide open and looking straight at him. Carson was relieved to see that Max took mostly after April rather than Neal. He had her facial structure for sure, and from what little hair was on his head, Carson could tell it was going to be more red than brown.

Lucky break, kid. Lucky break.

"He's…. he's cute," he said after a moment of awkward silence, and April's face broke into a relieved smile.

"Thank you," she said proudly. "Do you want to hold him?"

"What?" Carson squawked, backing away from the stroller as if it were on fire. "I… I mean, no thanks, I'm not that good with… I… seriously, this probably is a bad idea," he babbled, even as April reached into the stroller and lifted Max out, holding him out to Carson like an offering.

"He's not going to bite you or anything," she said.

"No, I realize that, because he has no teeth," stammered Carson. "I just…. what if I drop him?"

"You won't," April insisted. "I promise you won't."

Carson peered carefully at the squirming bundle in April's arms. Max was looking at him with wide, curious eyes, as though he wasn't quite sure what to make of him.

That makes two of us.

"Well…. just for a second," he finally conceded, and April grinned as she carefully passed the baby over from her arms to Carson's. Carson just stood there for a minute, looking down into Max's face and wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now. Rock him? Talk to him? What? I can't believe I thought I could do this with my OWN baby, I already can't wait to give this one back.

"Uh…. hi, Max," he finally said, feeling like a complete idiot talking to a squishy bundle of flesh that couldn't respond. "I'm, um… I'm Carson. Your… brother? I guess. Bit of an age difference there. But, on the bright side, I guess that means we won't really fight all that much. Not like me and Kurt. He's your other brother, and he'd probably flip a testicle if he knew I was seeing you right now. Ah, shit, I probably shouldn't say that to a baby. Fuck, I just swore again. I mean… damn it. I'm sorry." The baby just stared at him, probably thinking what an utter asshole his brother was. Not that Carson could blame him.

"Uh, maybe you should take him back now," he said, practically pleading, and April gave in, scooping the baby back up into her own arms and giving Carson an amused smile.

"That was better than I thought it would go, actually," she said lightheartedly. Carson looked at her curiously.

"So, did you just ask me here to meet the baby, or…"

"Well, partly," said April. "Mostly I just wanted to let you know that you and Neal might have your problems, but I don't think that means you should be denied the chance to know Max. If you want to, of course. I don't want to make you do anything you're uncomfortable with, but I just wanted you to know that if you want to be involved with his life, I'm completely ok with it. Kurt, too, if he ever comes around."

Carson looked down at his shoes. He honestly wasn't sure what to feel. This was just one more complication to add to his ever-growing list of them. What business did he really have around an impressionable kid anymore, anyway, with the way he lived his life nowadays?

"Can I think about it?" he asked April.

She nodded. "Of course."

"...Thanks," he mumbled, casting one last side glance at the baby.

Trust me, kid, you're better off without me.

If Sebastian thought it was difficult to be around Kurt before, it was nothing compared to how it was being around him on an almost constant basis due to rehearsals for West Side Story. The other boy wasn't being any more warm or forgiving than he'd been in weeks, and privately, Sebastian regarded rehearsals as a form of personal torture. It wasn't exactly one of the world's greatest amusements, having Kurt constantly trip him, bump into him, and drop things on him and innocently claim that they were "accidents," but since it was contact with Kurt at all, he would take it. Which just went to show how far he'd fallen from the person he used to be.

Stupid Kurt Phillips and his stupid power of seduction. Stop it. You stop it.

As a result, he'd taken to soliciting the services of Carson on more than a few occasions, spending large chunks of his monthly allowance in the process. He wasn't sure why he did it. He knew that Carson wasn't Kurt, no matter how much he looked like him, but even so, he was the closest thing to Kurt that Sebastian had available to him. A part of him felt kind of bad about using Carson so blatantly, but then again, he also figured that at least, if nothing else, he was doing his bit to keep Carson safer than he would be meeting randoms in empty parking lots in the middle of the night.

On the bright side, the nature of their business arrangement meant that Sebastian was free to experiment with different things that he never would have dared suggest to Kurt for fear of receiving that famous Kurt side-eye of judgement. He had a feeling he would have received that look and then some if he'd ever suggested food play to Kurt, but Carson, because he was being paid, had no such qualms.

"Is that fucking Nutella?" he asked incredulously one particular Saturday afternoon as Sebastian climbed up onto the bed beside him with the jar and a glazing brush.

"Yes, unless the label is lying," replied Sebastian.

"What is this, your weekend to get every kink you've ever had out of your system?" asked Carson grumpily. Sebastian figured he was probably tired from their first couple rounds of sex that day, since they had involved fuzzy handcuffs, which were still attaching Carson's wrists to the bedpost at the moment.

"Well, no," said Sebastian cheerfully. "See, the handcuffs aren't new, I've used them on many a guy before. However, I've never had occasion to use them on a Phillips, and so that's where you come on. The Nutella is new, though."

"And just what the fuck are you planning to do with it?" asked Carson warily, eyeing the jar. "Stick your dick in it?"

"In good time," replied Sebastian. He opened the jar and gingerly stuck one finger inside, getting a decent sized glob on his finger and gently running his finger down the length of Carson's chest. It left a trail, which Sebastian leaned over and carefully licked off of him. He didn't miss the way the other boy shivered as his tongue grazed his skin, and for someone who was such an irritating ass most of the time, Carson sure as fuck had a way of looking sexy enough with just one shiver to send electric jolts straight to Sebastian's dick.

I guess that's why people are willing to pay so much for him. Boy really found his damn calling, I'll give him that.

"Enjoying yourself, are you?" asked Sebastian cheekily, letting one Nutella stained finger lightly graze the skin of Carson's dick, which gave an interested twitch at the contact. He leaned down and licked at the spot it had made, and Carson groaned and bit his lip.

"You are one sick son of a bitch," he said, straining against the handcuffs.

"I'll take that as a compliment," said Sebastian proudly.

"Don't," grumbled Carson. "You used a fucking cock ring on me today and I still have yet to be getting any actual pleasure out of this deal."

"Well, to be fair, I'm the one paying for the pleasure," Sebastian pointed out, sticking his finger back into the Nutella jar and licking it clean.

"Still."

"Ok, will you stop being such a whiny bitch if I let you come once?"

"I promise nothing."

Sebastian rolled his eyes and settled himself between Carson's legs, dabbing some of the hazelnut spread back onto his torso and leaning down, trailing his lips over the taut stomach. Carson's muscles quivered in response, and Sebastian let his fingers glide over them, appreciating all the work the boy had clearly been putting into maintaining his abs.

"Been working out?" he asked.

"No, I was born with these abs," Carson muttered in response. He shivered involuntarily as Sebastian's fingers brushed against a nipple, and Sebastian grinned, trailing them down further before he stopped right above where Carson's dick was slowly but surely becoming hard as a rock. Sebastian surveyed it, appreciating the way it was standing tall and proud, flushed with color and bobbing as his fingers brushed over it. He palmed it, dragging the skin of his hand over it, and Carson moaned loudly, his head falling back onto a pillow and his cheeks flushing.

"If you're planning on using that stuff on me, you'd also better be planning to use a condom first," Carson suddenly spoke up, temporarily snapping Sebastian out of his sex reverie.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. God, I'm not a moron," he replied, rolling his eyes and reaching beside the bed for the box of condoms. He opened one and slid it expertly onto Carson's erection before leaning down and licking a long trail from his base to his tip. He dabbed a bit of Nutella onto the pulsing head and gave it a small kitten lick as he pumped his hand up and down Carson's length.

"Stop being a fucking tease," Carson complained.

"No, I'm paying, I can tease all I want," replied Sebastian. He took a firm hold of the erection in front of him and tapped it against his outstretched tongue before pressing the tip of it against the slit.

"Fuck youuuuu," groaned Carson.

"I'll be doing that shortly," promised Sebastian. He licked another long trail along the side of Carson's dick, and then placed his lips where the boy's thigh and pelvis met, sucking at the skin firmly. Carson gasped above him and Sebastian grinned against the skin, satisfied with the way the hickey was forming nicely.

"That's gonna leave a mark," he said proudly.

"So will my fist in your eye if you don't start doing something useful," muttered Carson, seemingly forgetting that he didn't have the use of his hands.

"Ok, ok. God, you're whiny." Sebastian took the glaze brush and dipped it carefully into the jar of Nutella, spreading it evenly along Carson's condom-covered erection before placing the tools aside. Making himself comfortable, he finally took Carson into his mouth, sinking down as slowly as possible so as to tease him just that much more before his nose finally hit skin. If there was one thing Sebastian was proud of, it was his ability to fit the entirety of almost any cock into his mouth. And the best part was that the Nutella was almost completely masking the taste of the latex that he usually fucking hated about blowjobs with condoms. He'd have to make a mental note to try other foods sometime, if Carson agreed.

Carson himself was straining even more against the handcuffs, clearly desperate to move, and his breath was coming out in gasps as his legs trembled. Sebastian was sliding his lips up and down his length, gathering up every bit of Nutella he could and swallowing greedily as he hollowed his cheeks and watched the other boy come apart above him.

He'd almost forgotten how much he liked giving blowjobs instead of just receiving them all the time, since, ever since he and Kurt had been on the rocks, he'd hardly done it. Usually he was hell bent on making Carson do most of the blowing, but this was a nice break from that. He loved making a guy writhe and feeling the weight of a nice erection on his tongue, and Carson sure had a lovely one,, that was for damn sure. He stretched his lips around him and started bobbing more rhythmically, kind of wishing that Carson's hands weren't incapacitated so that they could be digging into his hair, but oh well.

The head of Carson's dick dragged along the roof of his mouth and Sebastian hummed, pulling off just a bit before sinking back down. The way Carson was clearly trying not to fuck up into his mouth too hard was oddly sweet. He wasn't generally the most considerate of people. He considered telling him he could fuck his mouth if he wanted, but decided that being too giving wasn't what he was going for. Not this time, anyway.

He pulled off for a brief moment, twisting his hand over the head before wrapping his lips back around him, bobbing up and down faster.

"Fuck… fuck…. ah… Sebastian…" Carson choked out. Sebastian reached one hand out to gently jiggle his balls, and then Carson was coming with a shout, throbbing pleasantly against Sebastian's tongue through his orgasm. Sebastian sucked him through it, closing his eyes and letting himself listen to the moans that sounded so much like Kurt's, but weren't. And would never be.

This shit isn't healthy. Seriously.

"There," he said proudly, pulling of of Carson and carefully removing the condom. "You've come. Happy now?"

"Oh, I'm never happy," Carson replied with a satisfied smile. "But I'll give you one thing, you're damn good at giving head."

"Yeah, well. The Nutella helped," Sebastian murmured, wondering for the millionth time where his life had taken such an odd turn. He knew, somehow, that Carson was probably thinking the same, both of them slowly being destroyed inside by the one person who was always on both of their minds.