Oh my god, what the fuck did I do?

That was stupid. I am stupid.

FUCK.

Carson hadn't been able to stop those thoughts from swirling around and around in his head from the moment he'd pulled out of Kurt and started looking for his clothes. He still didn't know what had made him do what he'd done. He'd just been so pissed when he'd come home to see Kurt's latest cockblocking attempt laid out on his bed, and something had to give. He'd been fully prepared to give his twin the verbal beatdown of a lifetime, but Kurt had just stared at him with those eyes, those fucking captivating eyes, and he could feel himself being pulled under, but for some reason, this time he had no strength to keep a firm grip on himself. There had been absolutely nothing holding him back, and before he knew what he was doing, he was grabbing Kurt and kissing him like his very being depended on it.

That one kiss was all it took, apparently. It was like a dam had burst, and Carson could actually feel the last of his self-control leaving him as he picked Kurt up and carried him over to the table, the closest surface he could find, and even that was too fucking far away. He needed Kurt immediately, and he wasn't quite sure if he hated himself for feeling that way, or Kurt for making him feel that way. Either way, he was a human tornado of anger and lust and raging emotions that were finally being let free after such a long time being suppressed to the best of his ability. He was inside of Kurt before he could fully comprehend or even think about the possible consequences of what he was doing.

So, when the last of his orgasm had faded away and his mind was clear, he was suddenly hit with the horrifying reality of what he'd done. He'd been weak, he'd given in, and now it was probably only a matter of time before he started back down the very same road with Kurt that had led him to where he was at the moment. He couldn't go through that whole thing again. He just couldn't. He felt like he'd barely survived the last time, and the very thought of history repeating itself made him almost physically ill.

"Get dressed," he said quickly, trying to act as normal and businesslike as he would if Kurt were a client. "We have to clean that table."

He tried to ignore the fact that a client wouldn't be giving him those tremendously disappointed, sad eyes that Kurt have him as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He tried not to even look at Kurt at all as the two of them cleaned up the table and themselves and straightened up their clothes. He knew that if he looked at his twin for any length of time, he would feel guilty, and he didn't want to feel guilty. He already hated himself enough for what had happened, and the last thing he needed was to feel like complete shit as he looked into Kurt's eyes.

They didn't say anything to each other as they worked, although Kurt certainly looked like he wanted to say something. Or, knowing Kurt, probably more like several hundred thousand things. Carson just did his best to ignore him, and when they were done he retreated to the bathroom as quickly as was humanly possible. Simply being near his brother as the full realization of what they'd done enveloped him was making him feel suffocated. He jumped in the shower and stayed in there for a very long time, scrubbing away every last bit of evidence of the afternoon. Unfortunately, he realized, wincing in pain as the hot water hit his back in relentless, pounding drops, Kurt's nails had left marks on him that he wouldn't be able to erase for a while. They were everywhere, or at least, they seemed like it, and felt like thousands of tiny stab wounds all over his skin. He supposed that was some kind of appropriate symbolism.

This can't happen again. It just can't. You need to fucking pull yourself together and try to move on from this… thing, whatever it was. It was a moment of pure insanity, and it was a one-off. It does NOT mean you're falling for him again. It doesn't. It was a fuck, and that's all. You were probably just tired. Try to get more sleep, asshole, before you go completely off the rails and there's no saving you.

He heard Kurt go into the bathroom for his own shower and was distracted by the thought of his twin in there, naked and wet, scrubbing his body and probably thinking he'd won because Carson had momentarily lost his mind.

Well, I have news for you, Kurt. I'm stronger than you think I am. I may have had a moment of weakness, but it's passed now, and I can assure you, nothing of the sort will ever be happening again. Ever.

No matter how good your skin feels, or how much your moans sound like music, or how gorgeous you are when you come, or how much I would love to go into that bathroom right now and push you against the shower wall and just start sucking that gorgeous neck…

Needless to say, he didn't get very much sleep at all that night, despite his best efforts. He spent much of it tossing and turning, his mind plagued with thoughts of anger and guilt and the memory of soft skin under his lips. He wanted nothing more than to feel that skin again, kiss it, worship it, but at the same time, he was so pissed at himself for wanting that, knowing that resisting it was going to be ten times harder now that it had ever been before.

Basically, it was a damn rough night.

It wasn't any better by the next morning, either. Carson couldn't remember any time in recent history that felt more awkward than sitting across from Kurt at breakfast did. The table loomed between them like some kind of monument to Carson's shame, and the recollection of what had happened on that table the previous day sure as hell didn't make it any easier for him to consume his coffee in peace. Especially not with Kurt so obviously stealing cautious glances at him every few seconds, the dark marks on his neck left by Carson's over-zealous sucking still visible, even under the copious amounts of makeup Kurt had piled on top of them.

"Oh my god, will you stop staring at me?" Carson finally snapped, glaring at him over the rim of his coffee cup. Kurt averted his eyes and quickly shoved a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth, his cheeks flaming red.

"I wasn't staring."

"Yes, you were."

"Well… actually, I was thinking about your tattoos," said Kurt, giving him a coy smile that sort of made Carson want to slap him. "You had a K on your hip bone."

"So what?" snapped Carson.

"So… it's a K.."

"Get over yourself, it doesn't stand for Kurt," grumbled Carson. "It stands for…. Ke$ha."

Kurt stared at him. "Ke$ha."

"Yes."

"You got a tattoo on your hip bone to commemorate the musical stylings of a woman who thinks Mick Jagger is the pinnacle of hotness?"

"Eat your oatmeal. Kurt."

They sat in silence for another minute, and then Kurt sighed heavily, dropping his spoon into his bowl and fixing Carson with a searching gaze.

"What?"

"So, we're really not going to talk about what happened?" asked Kurt. "We're really going to pretend that it didn't?"

"Pretend that what didn't happen?" replied Carson casually, and he could have sworn he saw smoke pouring out of Kurt's ears.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the fact that we had sex yesterday," replied Kurt grumpily. "In here. On this table, in fact."

"Oh, that," said Carson, clearing his throat.

"Yes, that."

"Well, like I told you yesterday, it doesn't mean we're together, or anything," said Carson calmly, even though he felt anything but calm at the moment. "It was a moment of weakness, but it was just a fuck, at the end of the day." He quickly averted his eyes so that he wouldn't have to deal with the hurt look that crossed over Kurt's face at those words, because he was already having a hard enough time saying them as it was.

"So it meant nothing to you?" asked Kurt, sounding wounded.

"No, Kurt, like so many other times where you used me for your own personal pleasure, I just did the same," said Carson quickly, getting up and putting his cup in the sink so he wouldn't have to look at Kurt's face.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" exclaimed Kurt.

Carson sighed. "Look, Kurt, can we not turn this into a big thing? We lost ourselves, we snapped, we fucked, it's over. Let's try to move on and forget it, ok?"

There was silence from his twin for a moment, and then he felt Kurt coming up behind him. For a brief moment, he thought his brother was going to take a knife and stab him, but actually all he did was place his bowl in the sink.

"You can lie all you want, Carson, but I know that your tattoo isn't about fucking Ke$ha," said Kurt, his voice quiet but laced with frustration and anger. "And I know what happened yesterday wasn't just a fuck. It meant something whether you want it to or not." He turned back around and stalked out the door, slamming it shut behind him and leaving Carson alone in the kitchen with his thoughts.

That boy is going to be the fucking death of me.

He wasn't sure if Kurt had arrived at school yet by the time he got there, and he was almost tempted to try to find him, but he was practically cornered by Sebastian by his locker the second he got there.

"You and Kurt had sex," the other boy said with no preamble whatsoever, and Carson rolled his eyes.

"He's bragging about it, is he?"

"Uh, no," said Sebastian, shaking his head. "One look at him in the hall this morning told me everything I needed to know."

"What are you, some kind of sex clairvoyant?"

"Look, there's two things I know a shit ton about. Money, and sex. I can tell how rich someone is just by looking at them, and by the same token, I can tell when someone's gotten laid recently. Especially Kurt. I don't think I need to remind you that I'm intimately familiar with his post-sex demeanor."

"What's your point?" snapped Carson.

"I guess my point is to ask what the fuck?" said Sebastian with a frown. "I thought you were trying to get over him."

"I have to get to class, Sebastian."

"Did you make him pay?"

"Goodbye, Sebastian."

Disappointment and confusion.

Those were the top two emotions that Kurt had found himself feeling lately, ever since the kitchen table incident. Carson could say anything he wanted about it, but Kurt knew that he couldn't possibly mean any of it. It couldn't have been just a meaningless fuck, because Kurt could feel the underlying passion and desperation in the way Carson had fucked him, could feel that it wasn't just sex. Carson could get sex anywhere, from anyone. This had been different.

Unfortunately, his twin was as stubborn as a mule and, apparently, was refusing to acknowledge what Kurt could feel was true, deep down. But, the fact that he so vehemently refused to acknowledge it did make Kurt doubt just a little bit. What if he'd been wrong? What if it was just sex, and Carson had just been using him to let off steam?

And then he remembered the K tattoo. Ke$ha my ass.

If Carson wasn't going to own up to anything, then Kurt would have to resort to different tactics to try to reach him. Unfortunately, he wasn't feeling very creative, so the best plan he could come up with was the old standby of trying to make Carson jealous and hoping that something came of it.

One day, I'll get some new ideas, but I guess today is not that day.

He figured that Pamela Lansbury's first official gig would be as good an opportunity as ever to try it out. It was going to be at a small club downtown with probably an audience of a hundred, tops, but even so, the band was very excited for it. Kurt was, too, but truthfully, he was probably more excited at witnessing Carson's reaction to the dancing he'd been rehearsing with Elliott for the past week. If he could get him to even attend, that is.

"You want me to spend an hour of my night watching you and your band sing Madonna songs?" asked Carson dryly when Kurt had asked him to come. "You do this shit here in the flat all the time, I don't need to go to a club for that."

"But Carson, it's our first official gig," Kurt pleaded. "We've been working really hard for this! I know we have our…. we have our shit, but come on. I would go see it for you."

Carson sighed taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes tiredly. "What are the chances of you shutting up and leaving me alone if I don't agree to this?"

"Slim to none."

"Fine. I'll go."

Ok. Half the mission accomplished, then. The next step was making sure his performance outfit was absolutely perfect. It had to match the others' clothes in color, of course, but the yellow shirt and tight, blush colored pants he settled on really accentuated his body and showed off all the right areas in just the right ways. Basically, he would look fucking hot dancing on stage in those clothes, and Carson would see exactly what he would be missing out on by pretending there was nothing between them.

"Is he here yet?" he asked every five minutes backstage the night of the gig, trying to push Santana aside so he could have a peek into the audience.

"Oh my god, will you stop drooling over your damn brother for like five minutes?" said Santana, rolling her eyes. "This is our first performance for an actual audience. Can we fucking focus?"

"Bite me, Santana."

"In your dreams."

"Guys, come on," Elliott pleaded. "I know you're in high school, but…. this is really high school. Quit it."

Kurt and Santana glared at each other, but did calm down long enough for the band to do a small show circle before the announcer out front finally called their name.

"Showtime," said Santana, pushing everyone out onto the stage. Kurt couldn't see much at first because of all the blinding lights on the stage blocking his vision, but then, to his delight, he caught a glimpse of a very familiar face in the middle of the audience. Carson looked bored as hell, but he was there, that was what mattered.

Their set began, and Kurt tried to keep one eye on Carson at all times as they all rocked the dance moves they'd perfected to go with "Into The Groove." At first, he was disappointed to see that nothing seemed to be having very much effect on him.

That was before Kurt and Elliott did their own moves in the middle of the song, complete with touching, gyrating hips and plenty of ass shaking that turned out pretty damn well, if Kurt did say so himself.

Then everything changed. It was hard to tell exactly because his vision was so obscured, but Carson's demeanor seemed to get darker and more agitated the longer the set went on, especially every time Kurt did a move with Elliott.

I knew it. I fucking knew it. I KNEW IT.

He fully planned on continuing with it after the show was over, maybe by mentioning Elliott's killer dancing to Carson to gauge his reaction, but things took a slightly different turn from what he was expecting. What he'd been anticipating was Carson approaching them, grumbling some shit about how the performance was ok and could he go home now, for the love of god.

What actually ended up happening was that Carson did approach them, alright, but the look on his face was anything but boredom. It was significantly darker than that. He actually looked sort of pissed, and Kurt wasn't sure if he was nervous or turned on by the way Carson grabbed his arm, not enough to hurt but definitely firm enough to let Kurt know he meant business, and whispered in his ear "Say goodbye to your friends. We're getting out of here."

His voice was so low and dangerous that half the blood in Kurt's body traveled south right then and there, and it was all he could do to squeak out "Guys, we have to go, I'll catch up with you tomorrow, ok?"

He let Carson lead him out to the parking lot, wondering if maybe he was going to kiss him against the building or something, but all Carson did was lead them to his car and order him to get in.

Oh my god. He has that same look he had that day, and… oh my GOD.

Kurt honestly didn't know how they managed to make it the entire car trip home without pulling over, because Carson was absolutely unhinged, his eyes narrowed and his grip on the steering wheel so tight that Kurt could see how white his knuckles were even though the car was dark. Admittedly, this was pretty much exactly what he'd been hoping for by deliberately making the performance so flirty and hot, and it looked like it had worked. He'd made Carson jealous, clearly. The thought of what could possibly happen when they got home sent an electric jolt through his body, and he shivered in anticipation as they pulled into the parking garage of the apartment building.

"I want you to head straight for my bedroom when we get into the flat," Carson said lowly as they entered the elevator in the lobby. "Don't you fucking stop for anything, not even for so much as a drink of water, you understand?" His hand snaked down Kurt's back and squeezed his ass, hard, and Kurt swallowed nervously.

"I asked you a question."

"Yes, I understand," Kurt squeaked, unable to concentrate on much except the feel of Carson's hand on his ass, as if he were claiming it for his own. God, he can HAVE it, just…

The elevator arrived at their floor then, and Kurt practically bolted toward their flat, biting his lip as he watched Carson unlock the door and push it open, his moves very slow and deliberate, like he was teasing Kurt on purpose and was enjoying it.

"Bedroom, Kurt," he barked as soon as they were in, and Kurt scurried to obey, rushing to Carson's bedroom immediately, even though he was curious as hell to find out what Carson would have done if he hadn't followed instructions. He hadn't been in the bedroom for two full seconds before Carson was right on him, pushing him roughly against the wall and colliding their lips in a hard, desperate kiss. This much felt familiar from their last encounter, but even so, Kurt was still a little shocked at how forceful Carson was being. His lips on him were demanding and rough, his tongue forcing itself inside of Kurt's mouth to probe and explore whatever the fuck it wanted while his twin's hands worked their way under Kurt's shirt, firmly groping and feeling every inch of his body they could reach. Kurt was moaning and arching into the touches, surprising himself yet again at how much he seemingly enjoyed being taken so possessively. This could probably become a new kink for him, the way Carson's fingers dug into his skin a little too hard and caused just the right amount of pressure, the way his teeth were nipping his lips every few seconds, as though they wanted to be damn sure they left their mark…. Fuck, it was so good already and they'd barely done anything.

"Uungh," he moaned as Carson turned his lips' attention to biting and sucking on his sensitive neck, which still hadn't quite recovered yet from the last time they'd done this. Kurt shivered at the thought that Carson was refreshing those bruises, keeping them visible for everyone and anyone to see and know that Kurt had been claimed, so long as Kurt didn't cover them with makeup.

"Get the fuck on the bed," Carson growled, pulling away from him and pushing him down firmly onto the bed, where Kurt landed with a plop as Carson climbed on top of him. Kurt adjusted quickly, yanking Carson's shirt off within seconds and smiling at the sight of toned, firm abs that greeted him. Carson responded by grinding their clothed erections together and pulling at Kurt's shirt, which he took off without anything even remotely resembling care or grace. Kurt normally would have yelled at him to be careful because his clothes were expensive, but he forgot all about it the second Carson leaned down and pressed a rough kiss to the top of his flushed chest.

"Bet you never let that Elliott guy touch you like this," he muttered, kissing a line down Kurt's chest and stopping to work his tongue around one sensitive nipple. "Do you?"

Kurt couldn't do anything but moan quietly as Carson licked at him, but that moaning quickly turned into frustrated groaning as Carson pulled away and glared down at him. "I asked you a question, Kurt," he growled, repeating what he'd said in the elevator, but sounding much more insistent and authoritative. Kurt shivered and shook his head vigorously.

"No," he insisted, gasping the word out as Carson circled his hips against him teasingly. "No, he never… we never…" He bit his lip and arched his back, trying to get more friction against his throbbing dick, but Carson was deliberately withholding it now. "Please," Kurt begged, not sure exactly what he was begging for, because most of his brain power was concentrated on how much his erection was aching to be set free. He did know, however, that he needed Carson to dominate him and he needed it now, if not even sooner.

Carson looked down at him for a moment, and then, to Kurt's immense relief, he leaned back down and started kissing and biting where he'd left off, leaving his mark all the way down Kurt's torso as Kurt let out a whine of pleasure.

"God, are you ever not completely desperate for it?" marveled Carson as Kurt arched his hips back up, searching for the elusive friction or, really, just anything to take a bit of the edge off.

"I want you so bad," Kurt babbled, moaning as Carson delivered one more bite to his other nipple. "Fuck."

"I'm aware," replied Carson, grinning wolfishly down at him as he tugged at his jeans and removed them, his underwear going with them. He was just as hard as Kurt was, his tip almost violet with arousal, and Kurt moaned out loud at the sight, more turned on than ever to see just how hard his twin was for him. The contrast of Carson's hard cock jutting out against the rest of his toned, muscular body was too much for Kurt to take, and he tried to pull him down into another rough kiss, but Carson resisted.

"Uh-uh," he said, shaking his head. "You're not in charge, here. I am." He started working on Kurt's tight performance pants, removing them quickly and expertly and giving Kurt a very long, dangerous look when he discovered that he wasn't wearing any underwear.

"You're not wearing…"

"Nope," replied Kurt, biting his lip coyly and looking up at Carson through his long eyelashes.

"So you went up on stage tonight, in front of all those people, and shook your ass around like a porn star, and you weren't wearing any underwear that entire time?" said Carson, his voice low and rough, and Kurt swallowed as he nodded. The next thing he knew, Carson's lips were back on him, and there was a warm hand, soft but firm, circled around his throbbing dick, stroking him in the most teasing and slow manner Kurt had ever experienced. It was torture, but it was so fucking good at the same time. He arched his back, thrusting his erection through Carson's fist, and he almost cried real tears when Carson suddenly stopped touching him and crawled over to the other side of the bed.

"Where are you goiiing?" Kurt whined.

"Where the fuck do you think?" retorted Carson, coming back with lube and a condom in hand. He popped the cap of the lube bottle and began slicking up his fingers while Kurt watched him, growing increasingly more desperate with every passing second but not daring to voice his impatience, lest Carson get it into his head to punish him by going even slower.

"Look at you," Carson said, smirking as he let the lube coat his fingers. "You can't fucking wait for me to fuck you, and you want to be a bitch right now and tell me to hurry up, but you're trying to be a good boy, aren't you?"

Fuuuuck, how does he do that? Kurt pouted and nodded, and Carson's smirk grew bigger at the affirmation.

"Good, that's good," said Carson approvingly. "I only fuck good boys who do what they're told." After what seemed like forever, he finally leaned down and sucked on Kurt's bottom lip as he slid one finger inside of him. A second quickly joined the first, and Kurt couldn't contain his moan as Carson's fingers found his sweet spot, dragging over it teasingly until he thought he was going to die if he didn't get more soon. He was so desperate that he started fucking himself down on Carson's fingers, something which his twin seemed to find extremely amusing.

"You want it so fucking bad, don't you?"

"Yes," Kurt answered, nodding and groaning in frustration as Carson slowed down his fingers, keeping them inside of him but not moving them.

"That's all you wanted the whole night, isn't it? For me to drag you home and treat you like a toy?"

"God, just fuck me already!" Kurt begged, too desperate now to care about holding it in. "Please!"

Carson yanked his fingers out then and started unwrapping the condom, sliding it over himself and slicking himself up before lining up with Kurt's entrance. "I'd ask if you're ready, but I think the answer to that is obvious," he said with a smirk, pushing himself all the way in until Kurt could feel his balls resting against his ass.

"Fuck," Kurt groaned as Carson took his legs and placed them over his shoulders. He pulled out and then slammed back in, making Kurt scream out in pleasure as the tip of his cock found his prostate.

"Mine," growled Carson as he thrust again and again, his pace slowly becoming faster as he settled into a rhythm. "Say it," he added, delivering a hard thrust that sent Kurt almost sliding all the way up the bed. "Fucking say it."

"Yours!" Kurt said quickly, sliding his legs down and wrapping them tightly around Carson's waist, digging his feet into his ass in order to make him go deeper inside of him. Carson's thrusts got faster and rougher as he pressed himself close to Kurt, so much so that the headboard was thumping against the wall, and it briefly occurred to Kurt that this was the same bed where his twin had fucked countless other men before, but he forgot all about it as soon as he felt Carson's hand circle itself back around his erection. He found himself maneuvering his head so that he could suck on his twin's neck. He caught his earlobe between his teeth, and that seemed to do something magical to Carson, who let out a broken moan as his hips stuttered, and Kurt took the opportunity to bask in the beauty that was Carson's face as he came. His hand was still around Kurt's cock, jerking him off frantically, and the sight of Carson coming sent Kurt skyrocketing into his own climax as everything went white for a few moments.

It seemed like they lay there, entwined together and panting as they came down from their orgasms, for just a tad bit longer than they had last time, and Kurt dared to hope that it would last at least for a few minutes. He didn't want to stop feeling Carson's skin against him, or the thumping beat of his heart against his own. To his disappointment, though, Carson seemed to come back quickly from whatever headspace he'd been lost in, and he assumed that frustrating, businesslike demeanor almost as soon as he'd pulled out.

"Right, I… I have to shower and go to bed…. got so much to do tomorrow," he muttered as he looked at Kurt awkwardly. So many thoughts raced through Kurt's head, chief among them, Are you fucking kidding me? and Oh my god, what do I have to do to get you to not pretend that these things didn't happen almost as soon as they're over?

Instead, he just sighed and got up out of the bed, accepting the wet wipe Carson offered him as he frowned and wondered why the hell things just couldn't ever work out the way they do in movies.

Needless to say, Carson had never hated himself more than he had the morning after he and Kurt had fucked for a second time. At this point, he was honestly afraid that he was completely losing any ability to control himself that he might have once had, and the thought scared the hell out of him. He hadn't even recognized himself that second time. It was like he'd become someone else entirely, someone who was so insanely jealous of the chemistry Kurt had with Elliott on that stage that all he could think about was making sure that Kurt was his. That sex had been claiming sex, and the idea of that made Carson feel very, very weird indeed. By all accounts, he shouldn't have been that damn jealous. He shouldn't have given half a fuck if Kurt and Elliott full-on made out during that performance, really, but for some reason, even the sight of Elliott blatantly checking out Kurt's ass while they rocked the chorus of "Into The Groove" drove him absolutely insane.

He was losing his grip on his life, and he didn't like it at all, not one bit. Mostly he was just very confused by his own emotions. Half the time (well, ok, most of the time) he really just wanted to murder Kurt. Preferably slowly and painfully, especially over the constant territory battle over bathroom shelf space or whose turn it was to wash the dishes.

Well…. ok, ok, maybe not murder him, but at least poke him in the eye or something. Although, he had to admit that his feelings had bordered much closer on murder the day that Carson was at the flat, getting himself ready for a client he was expecting any minute, and Kurt had shown up out of the blue with a bag in one hand and, to Carson's extreme surprise, Max in the other.

"Kurt, what the fuck."

"What's the matter, Carson?" asked Kurt innocently, and Carson came dangerously close to getting his eyes stuck in the back of his head from how hard he rolled them.

"I told you I needed the flat this afternoon."

"I remember."

Carson pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, willing himself not to scream. "Then tell me, Kurt, what are you and the baby doing here?"

"Oh, that," said Kurt, clearly knowing exactly what he was doing but pretending not to. "Well, see, I just happened to be in the area where Side Dish's pharmacy is, and-"

"April, Kurt."

"Yeah, her. Anyway, I had to go in there because we're out of headache pills anyway, and June had the baby with her because she couldn't find a sitter, and, well, you know how busy places can get in that area on a Saturday, so…"

"Kurt, does this story have some kind of end point?" Carson asked irritably, trying to refrain from snapping too much lest he scare Max.

"I'm getting there, Carson, damn. Anyway, May looked like she had her hands pretty full, the kid was fussing, and you know how much I adore the little tyke and all, so I graciously offered to take him off her hands for the afternoon."

Carson just stared at him for a minute, wondering how possible it would be to distract Max long enough for him not to notice if he strangled Kurt to death. "You are the biggest bullshitter I have ever met in my entire life, and that is saying a lot, considering my profession."

"What? We really are out of headache pills," said Kurt. "And I really do adore this little sack of potatoes here…. ok, seriously, is it supposed to smell like sour milk all the time?"

Carson gritted his teeth and took the baby from him, hoping that holding him would help to at least somewhat calm the homicidal rage that was building within him at the moment. "Kurt, you knew damn well why I needed the flat empty this afternoon, yes?"

"Ooooh, that," said Kurt in a low voice, as though this were completely brand new information. "Right. That."

"Yeah," grumbled Carson. "And this just so happens to be the afternoon that you, conveniently and completely out of the big, clear blue, decide to take it upon yourself to offer your babysitting services? For fuck's sake, Kurt, you can barely tell a diaper from a bottle most of the time."

"That's not very nice, Carson," said Kurt calmly, putting down the bag of baby supplies on the table. "He's our brother and all that jazz, after all."

"Kurt, I have a client coming over in about ten minutes, and I now have a whining baby I have to deal with," muttered Carson as Max started to fuss and squirm in his arms. "Not to mention I have to figure out what to do with Max."

"Oh, well, that does sound like a problem," agreed Kurt. "I guess you'll have to reschedule."

"This guy is horny now, Kurt, not tomorrow."

"Well, I'm sure July will be back for him in a couple of hours."

Carson closed his eyes and took a very deep breath. "Kurt, I'm going to hand you the baby, and I want you to take him somewhere. Anywhere. But you can't keep him here, because I have to work."

"Where am I supposed to take him?" whined Kurt. "He cries if someone even looks at him wrong! He whines more than he breathes!"

"I feel you, I do, but that's not my problem," replied Carson. "This flat doesn't pay for itself, and you're the one who volunteered to babysit. Take him to the park or something. Or take him shopping and teach him how to tell one designer from the other, I don't care. But I need the flat for the next hour. I refuse to fuck a client with a baby in the house."

Kurt glared at him, but Carson stood his ground. "Two times doesn't mean we're in a relationship, Kurt," he added. "You know what I do for a living."

Kurt was silent for a moment as the two of them stared each other down. Finally, he sighed and took the baby from Carson, holding him gingerly as he put the bag back over his shoulder.

"One hour," he said like some kind of warning, before disappearing out the apartment door. Carson heaved a huge sigh as he let his forehead hit the wall in exasperation.

I swear I want to kill him, this cannot be healthy.

And yet, despite Kurt's borderline childish behavior and underneath all that negativity, it was getting harder and harder for him to deny that he did feel something for Kurt. He could lie to himself all he wanted, but there was really no way to disguise the butterflies he was feeling more and more often whenever he was around him. For all his faults, Kurt really could be excellent company. And well… it was kind of hard to just forget an entire lifetime of closeness only twins could share.

But that doesn't mean I'm in love with him or anything, ok? I just…. we're twins, he's pretty much the only family I have, and I'm just super confused. Losing my self-control and fucking him TWICE didn't really help either, did it? No.

Ok, from now on, I swear on everything I have, I will work harder at keeping a level head.

Levelheaded Carson, that's me. I will treat him like the roommate he is from now on, because I certainly do NOT have feelings for him.

I don't.

It got to the point where he had to remind himself of this every morning and every night before he went to sleep. He wasn't sure how well that was working out, though, considering that it felt like he was sleeping much worse lately than he had in a while. He frequently found himself waking up in the middle of the night and having to just sit at the kitchen table for a while, a mug of hot tea in his hand as he tried to collect and organize his thoughts.

He got up out of bed one night, intending to do exactly that, but stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the living room and found out he wasn't the only one not in his own bed. Kurt was curled up in a ball on the living room sofa, his head resting on a throw pillow and his eyes wide open as he stared out the window at the lights of the town.

"Kurt?"

Kurt jumped and yelped, looking behind him and visibly sighing with relief when he saw it was just Carson. "Oh my god, Carson, you scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry?"

"No, it's fine," Kurt said, clutching at his chest. "I just didn't realize you were up."

"Are, um…. are you, like… ok?" asked Carson awkwardly, feeling like he should ask but not sure of the proper protocol, considering their strange relationship at the moment.

"I'm ok," Kurt answered, giving him a small smile. "I just… I had a really bad nightmare, I guess, and I couldn't get back to sleep. I had to get out of the bedroom for a while."

"Oh," said Carson. The fact that half of him wanted to make fun of Kurt while the other half wanted to reassure him he was safe made him extremely frustrated with his own emotions, something which, at this point, was absolutely nothing new.

"Yeah," said Kurt with a shrug.

"I was gonna have some tea," said Carson after a moment of awkward silence. "Do you, um… want some?"

Kurt smiled up at him and nodded. "I'd like that," he said, and Carson gave him a weird sort of half-smile back.

"Ok," he replied, hurrying into the kitchen before the moment could become any more uncomfortable for him. He set about making the tea while Kurt slid into a chair at the table, remembering the right amount of sugar and cream that his twin liked as he prepared his cup. Proud of himself, he set the cup in front of Kurt and sat down across from him, trying to look cool and stoic.

""Thanks," said Kurt gratefully as he took a sip of his tea. "You remembered how I like it," he said, sounding slightly surprised. Carsons shrugged.

"I have a knack for remembering shit, it's not that big a deal," he said dismissively, busying himself with drinking his own tea as Kurt gave him a small smile. They drank in silence for a minute, and then Carson found himself asking, curiously, "So what was your nightmare about?"

Kurt looked down into his teacup and shrugged. "Hard to describe, really, I just….. I was on a boat with someone, and I couldn't see their face, because they had a mask on, but I felt like I knew them, you know? And I did something stupid and made the boat tip over, and the masked person was flailing and I knew they would drown if I didn't do something to help them, but every time I tried to take their hand and help them back onto the boat, I missed. I woke up panicking."

He looked like he was about to cry, and Carson was so not ready for that to happen. Mostly because he sucked at comforting people and he knew it, but also, partly, because he never did like to see Kurt unhappy. Well, unless he was causing it with a practical joke or something. That was different.

"Well, they were stupid for wearing a mask on a fucking boat, anyway," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

"I guess so," said Kurt quietly. The two of them finished their tea and Carson collected the cups, placing them in the sink to deal with in the morning. He was going to head back to his room, but the sight of Kurt wandering back over to the couch made him stop, debating hotly with himself for a moment or two until his irrational side completely kicked his rational side's ass.

"Hey, Kurt," he said, unsure how to made what he was about to say casual enough. "Um… look, I hate to see you spend the night on the couch when you have to be at school so early, so, um… I mean, it's not that comfortable and I know you're weirded out by your dream, or… you know, whatever, so… I guess if you wanted to sleep in my room tonight, you could. I mean, if you want. Don't feel like you have to, or anything."

Smooth, Carson. Smooth as a cottage cheese ceiling.

Kurt was looking at him carefully, almost as if he were trying to figure out where the joke was, and Carson tried to look sincere, but was pretty sure he just wound up looking constipated.

"Really?" asked Kurt at last, sounding unsure.

"Yeah, I mean, you know. Just one night, you understand," said Carson, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Like… in your bed?"

"No, on the floor. Of course the bed," said Carson, rolling his eyes. "This sort of generosity might never come again, you know."

Kurt smiled to himself and got up from the couch to stand in front of Carson, and Carson swallowed at the sight of his twin's sparkling blue eyes looking into his own. Goddammit, feelings, stop it.

"I… I'd love that," Kurt accepted, and Carson sniffed, trying to look like he didn't care.

"Well, then. Come on," he said, almost taking Kurt by the hand but stopping himself just in time. He just headed toward the bedroom and Kurt followed him, waiting until Carson had settled himself in before he climbed in after him, pulling the covers over them both. He parked himself on the far side of the bed, like he wasn't sure he was allowed to be too near, and Carson sighed heavily.

"You can… you can move closer, if you want," he mumbled quietly. "I mean, I don't want you to be uncomfortable all squished into the corner like that."

Kurt gave him a curious look, but he did scoot closer, his movements slow and cautious, until he was close enough that he could have put his head on Carson's chest, if he wanted. And, just as Carson was thinking this, he did do that, just slightly, resting his head half on a pillow and half on the spot where Carson's neck met his shoulder.

"Right. Well. Um…. good night, then," Carson said quickly, trying to squash down the fluttery feeling that passed through his stomach from having Kurt so close.

"Good night, Carson," said Kurt with a yawn, moving a bit against him, and Carson closed his eyes and counted to ten, reminding himself that he was only doing this as a nice favor and that it didn't mean anything beyond that. He just felt sorry for his brother and was being nice, that was all.

That's ALL, he stubbornly told himself as he watched Kurt fall asleep, his chest rising and falling with deep, regular breaths. He'd forgotten how angelic Kurt looked when he slept, his face becoming so innocent-looking, his mouth in a perfect little pout and his upturned nose twitching ever so slightly once in a while. The light from the window was enough for Carson to make out the freckles sprinkled over Kurt's face that his twin usually hid with makeup, although Carson could never understand why that was. He thought his freckles were cute.

Ok, seriously, stop it. Stop looking at him and go the fuck to sleep, you're making yourself sick.

Kurt sighed, stretching himself out on the living room couch and mindlessly clicking the channel button on the remote, looking for anything that looked remotely interesting. He needed something to distract him from the thought of what Carson might be doing at the moment, since it was Saturday night and apparently that was a prime night in the prostitution business. Sure, Carson had said he was just going out drinking with Santana and Sebastian, but Kurt thought that was probably just a lie meant to save Carson the trouble of listening to him complain about his job.

Why doesn't he get that I just want him to be safe?

Maybe he's fucking Sebastian, at least. I don't like it, but I'll take it over the alternatives.

He was trying to decide between calling up Elliott and going out for a while, or staying in the flat catching up on some television shows, when he heard a commotion going on outside in the hallway. It was footsteps at first, and then Kurt heard voices joining them after a few seconds, one strong and steady and the other much more whiny.

"Carson, come on, you have to help me, here," the stronger voice said, and Kurt immediately sat up on the couch when he recognized it as Sebastian's, his senses on high alert as he listened for his twin's response.

"Let go of meeeee," he heard Carson whine, his voice clearly shaky. "Let gooo…. I'll kick you in the balls, leave me alone."

"We have to get you to Kurt, ok?" said Sebastian's voice, and then Kurt heard him mutter a pained "Ow, fuck!" as he got up from the couch and bolted across the flat toward the door.

"Guys, I'm wearing heels, you wanna slow the fuck down?" came a third voice that Kurt recognized as Santana's.

"Nooo, don't bring me to Kurt, he can't see me like this, no," Carson was saying as Kurt unlocked the door and yanked it open. Sebastian was there in the hallway, almost having reached the flat. Kurt could immediately see why it was taking him so long, because he had one arm wrapped tightly around Carson's waist, clearly helping him walk, while Carson frowned and tried desperately to squirm away from Sebastian's grip. Santana was bringing up the rear, her face exasperated as she finally caught up with everyone. Sebastian looked up as soon as the door was flung open, his face full of guilt as he caught Kurt's eye. The distraction caused him to loosen his grip on Carson just enough for Carson to elbow him in the ribs and crumble to the ground, his shoulders heaving as he took huge breaths.

"Oh my fucking god!" Kurt exclaimed, horrified, as he rushed over to Carson and knelt beside him. "What happened? What's wrong with him?" he demanded, trying to keep himself calm enough to help Carson back up, even though he was quickly filling with righteous anger. What the hell had those two shitheads done to his brother? A closer examination of Carson's face as he finally managed to get him to his feet revealed that at least two things were true: Carson was high as a kite, and he had been crying, at least a little bit.

"Sebastian, you fucker, I told you not to take me to him!" Carson whined when he saw who was helping him up.

"Carson, there was no way in hell I was going to deal with this shit on my own, ok?" Sebastian retorted as everyone followed Kurt and Carson into the apartment. Kurt led Carson over to the couch and gently made him sit down.

"Carson… Carson, look at me, honey…. what happened?" asked Kurt, rubbing his twin's shoulder while Carson shook his head violently and refused to look at him.

"Be quiet, the shapes were chasing us, they're gonna find us," Carson muttered, his voice quaking, and Kurt sighed, glaring accusingly over at Sebastian and Santana.

"Ok, one of you needs to start talking," he snapped angrily. "What the fuck did you do to him?"

"Don't look at me!" exclaimed Sebastian. "Assless over here was the one who gave him the shrooms, not me."

"You gave him shrooms?" shrieked Kurt, shooting a murderous look in Santana's direction.

"Oh, don't give me that bitchy ice queen look, ok?" said Santana, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms, as though she were bored with the entire situation. "They were something I got from Dani, and you can get pretty fucked up just from taking a little bit of them, so I thought it would be funny to dare Carson to take one, one, and see if I could get some wild hooker confessions out of him. It's not my fault he took all of them."

"They looked like dicks," mumbled Carson. "Little tiny dicks. So many tiny dicks in my hand…"

"He took all of them?" repeated Kurt in horror as Carson shook like a leaf next to him."Where were you when this happened?" he demanded, switching his glare over to Sebastian.

"What was I supposed to do, Kurt? Slap his hand and threaten to tell your mommy if he took them?" replied Sebastian, his voice sounding tired. "I think we both know that would have gone over about as well as a blowjob in church."

"He spanks me all the time," Carson piped up. "I like it, especially when he makes my ass all red, and-"

"Carson, shhh," Kurt shushed him, not wanting to add hearing the details of his brother's sex life to the list of things he already hated about this night.

"Anyway. He's a big boy, and I can't police everything he does. I figured, if he wants to fuck himself up by taking enough shrooms to take down an elephant, he could be my guest," finished Sebastian.

"Yeah, and at first I thought he was fine," added Santana. "I mean, he started humming to himself and trying to dance the macarena, which I totally got on camera, and it was fucking hilarious….."

"But," Kurt said through gritted teeth, trying to force the rest of the story out as quickly as possible while Carson whined softly beside him.

"Yeah, anyway, so he was ridiculously happy one minute, and then he started screaming about shape monsters and trying to hide behind me the next," Santana continued.

"I got up to get him a glass of water, and he screamed louder and told me not to leave the room, or else they would claw me to death," added Sebastian. "Then he started grabbing everything he could reach and throwing it at the "monsters." I'm pretty sure he almost broke one of my ribs."

"And instead of letting him ride it out where he was, you decided to move him and drag him through town?" said Kurt angrily. "For fuck's sake, he's probably traumatized! Who knows what kind of shit he was seeing this whole time?"

"Everything's blue, Kurt," Carson whispered suddenly, as if he were sharing a scandalous secret. "Blue and green and red and... like... I dunno what that color is, but it looks like piss." He stood up, or tried to, since what he was doing could be classified more as wobbling than properly standing. "You shut up!" he shouted angrily at no one, to a spot slightly to the left of the sofa. "I told you I don't suck the dick until I get the cash, asshole." He sat back down next to Kurt, looking at him with wide eyes. "Hey... hey Kurt, when did you grow an extra eye?"

"I cannot fucking believe you moved him through town like this," snapped Kurt to Sebastian. "He needed to stay where he was until this passed. How long has he been like this?"

"A few hours, I guess? Who the fuck knows how long this trip is going to last?" retorted Sebastian. "I can barely deal with him when he's sober, I can't spend hours with him like this. You keep claiming you love him and want to be there for him. Here's your shot."

Carson let out a high pitched whine before Kurt could come up with an appropriately bitchy reply, getting up from the couch on wobbly feet and swaying as he started breathing harder.

"The coffee table is talking to me, and it won't shut up, and I don't feel good," he said in a small, helpless voice, and Kurt got up and put his arm around him, intending to lead him into the bathroom so he could at least be near the toilet, in case he had to be sick. Unfortunately, Carson didn't wait for that. He heaved and threw up right then and there, covering the front of Kurt's shirt with warm vomit. It wasn't a lot, but then, he supposed there really wasn't any such thing as a reasonable amount of vomit. Kurt yelped in shock, his mouth gaping open as the strong, awful smell began to permeate all his senses. Carson breathed shallowly next to him, tears starting to stream down his face again.

"I threw up," he said quietly, stating the obvious as Kurt closed his eyes and tried to remain as calm as he possibly could.

"Yeaaaah, well… I think that's my cue to go," said Santana, clearing her throat and adjusting the strap of her purse. "You guys, um…. good luck." She hurried out of the flat before Kurt could find a sharp object to throw at her, leaving him alone with a shaking, sick Carson, and a very guilty looking Sebastian.

"Yeah, sure, typical Santana," muttered Kurt. "Completely fuck him up and then leave, just like always. You gonna join her?" he asked Sebastian, who looked very tired as he gave a heavy sigh.

"Kurt, come on, you can't blame me for this, can you?" he asked. "You know that no one tells Carson what to do. Or what not to do."

"Right now, all I know is that my brother is sick and needs to be taken care of," snapped Kurt. "And that I'm going to do that because I'm apparently the only one who cares enough about him in the entire world to do that." He put an arm around Carson, slowly leading him to the bathroom and hoping that he wouldn't throw up again before they got there. Fortunately, they made it there without any further incidents, and Kurt immediately removed his soiled shirt and started cleaning Carson up while his twin sat despondently on the toilet, his eyes focused on his feet.

"No, but like... did you ever actually stop and wonder why the sky is blue?" asked Carson as Kurt began wetting a washcloth in the sink. "I mean, do you think maybe it was because my life was destined to be so shitty, that the universe figured they might as well at least give me something pretty to look at whenever I look up? 'Cause I love blue."

"I know you do, Carson," said Kurt as he started running the washcloth gently over his twin's face, but Carson flinched away from it as if it were covered in acid.

"Why are you putting blood all over my face?" he demanded, his voice panicked. Kurt sighed.

"Honey, it's water."

"No it's not! I know what water looks like, that's not it!"

"Carson-"

"NOOOO, get it away!"

"Ok, ok," Kurt conceded.

"I'm thirsty," Carson complained once he was satisfied that the offending washcloth wasn't touching him anymore.

"Um... shit, ok, I'm going to go get you a glass of water, ok?... Carson?" Kurt said, trying to get Carson's attention, but Carson was too busy waving at the shampoo bottle on the edge of the tub to pay him any attention. "Carson? I'll be right back," he reiterated. He rushed out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water as Sebastian wandered in behind him.

"Why are you still here?" asked Kurt grumpily.

"Well, I didn't want to leave you alone with him, just in case," mumbled Sebastian. "What if he gets worse or something?"

"He's already talking to no one and hearing voices coming out of furniture, I don't think he can get much worse," replied Kurt. He headed back toward the bathroom, preparing to hand Carson the glass as soon as he entered, but to his horror, he discovered nothing but an empty bathroom.

"Carson!" he shouted, placing the glass down and looking around frantically for his missing twin. "CARSON!" He started opening every door, not finding Carson behind any of them. This is ridiculous, it's a flat, there's only so many places he can be. "Carson, it's Kurt. Where are you?"

"I don't like carrots, though," came Carson's voice from the hall closet, and Kurt yanked it open, revealing his twin inside with his knees drawn up to his chest, holding a half full bottle of vodka that Kurt didn't have the time or energy to wonder how he'd obtained it. He was just relieved that Carson hadn't jumped out a window or something equally as horrifying. Although he had a feeling that getting drunk on top of already being high wasn't going to help the situation much.

"You left me," Carson said accusingly. "You always leave me."

"Carson, thank god," Kurt breathed, reaching in and trying to take the vodka bottle away.

"NO!" shrieked Carson. "MINE."

"Carson, give me the bottle."

"No."

"Carson."

"The bottle is my friend. His name is Pete."

Kurt finally did manage to loosen Carson's grip on the bottle and take his twin's hands, leading him back toward the bathroom as Carson whimpered in protest.

"There's a monster in there, I don't wanna go!"

"Carson, baby, we have to get you cleaned up," said Kurt calmly.

"But the monster!"

"There is no monster, Carson."

"In the mirror."

Kurt grabbed a towel from the rack and carefully arranged it over the mirror, hoping it would stay put until he'd gotten his brother taken care of. "Ok, see? No more mirror. It's safe now, ok?"

Carson looked unsure, but did follow him into the bathroom and allowed Kurt to sit him down on the toilet. Kurt decided to take a chance on the washcloth again, and fortunately, this time Carson was significantly more agreeable. Kurt could see how dilated his pupils were this close up, which was slightly unnerving. There was hardly any speck of blue left.

"How come nobody ever loved me?" Carson asked suddenly, causing Kurt to freeze for a moment and forget to keep running the cloth over his face.

"What?" he said disbelievingly.

"Nobody loves me," repeated Carson, his voice calm, almost as if he were contemplating a particularly unusual weather pattern. "Not even you. I tried not to be so sad when Grandma started slipping away, because I thought I still had you to love me, but you didn't. Nobody loves me, and I don't understand why, that's all. Did I do something wrong?"

"Carson," Kurt breathed out, setting the washcloth aside and looking into his twin's eyes. Carson's face was starting to scrunch up, and Kurt was horrified as he watched fresh tears start to stream down his brother's face.

"I tried to be lovable, I did," Carson insisted as his breath shook with sobs. "I gave up on Mom and Dad, but I knew Grandma loved me and I thought… I thought you did too…. I don't think anyone would even care if I died, you know. Dad would probably be happy. And you'd forget all about me after a while."

Kurt felt like he'd been punched right in the gut as he heard Carson's tearful words. He was watching him crumble to pieces right in front of his eyes, and he wasn't sure how much of what Carson was saying was what he actually felt and how much of it was just the drugs talking. Either way, it killed him inside to see his brother, looking so small and helpless, shaking with sobs on the toilet and not knowing how to help him. Seeing someone you loved with all your heart and soul hurting so much had to be the absolute worst feeling in the world, he decided as he knelt down to Carson's level. Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug, planting a soft kiss to the side of his head. He felt Carson sag against him and really let loose with more crying, and he could do absolutely nothing to stop it.

"Shhhh," he soothed, rubbing gentle circles into Carson's back as it heaved with violent sobs. "It's ok," he whispered. "I've got you, ok? I'm here."

"I feel like I was born broken," he heard Carson say shakily into his ear. "Why wasn't I made right?"

"Oh, Carsey," whispered Kurt, feeling tears start to spill out of his own eyes. He caught a glimpse of Sebastian watching them out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored it, focusing solely on Carson in his arms and hating himself for ever making him feel like he needed to say half the things he was saying. "I do love you, Carsey. I do. I always did."

And I always will.

Carson's crying eventually tapered off into tiny whimpers, and Kurt managed to get him cleaned up and both of them into fresh clothes before he settled him into his bed. Carson turned over on his side as Kurt attempted to put the covers over him, frowning and shaking his head.

"Too hot for those."

"Carson, it's freezing in here."

"Too hot!"

Kurt sighed and conceded, forgetting about the bedspread but putting a light sheet over him instead as Sebastian peeked into the room cautiously.

"It's safe now, he isn't going to throw up anymore," Kurt said dryly, still pissed at the situation and looking for someone to lash out at. "You could have left, you know."

"I wanted to make sure you both were ok," Sebastian admitted, looking down at his feet and drawing his shoulders inward.

"It's not like I need your help," said Kurt sharply. "I took care of him on my own, it was fine."

"I know, I just…"

"Is that Sebastian?" asked Carson suddenly.

"It's me, Carson. You feeling better?" asked Sebastian, peeking around Kurt to look at him.

"Sebastian, can I ask you a question?"

"Um… ok?"

"How come we never used a cucumber?" mused Carson. "I mean, you like the big blue dildo, and that's fine, even though it kind of pisses me off because it makes me feel like my dick isn't good enough for you. Why isn't my dick good enough for you? Kurt, hit him for me."

Kurt and Sebastian exchanged a look, and Sebastian set his mouth in a line as they both spent a moment not saying anything.

"I should probably go home, then?"

"That would be best, yeah."

Sebastian gave Kurt one last, guilty look before showing himself out, and Kurt let out a deep breath, wishing that the new day would come already and they could all put this entire night behind them.

"Kurt?" Carson said suddenly, his tiny voice breaking through the darkness and quiet of the bedroom.

"Hmm?"

"Will you lay with me? I don't want to be alone."

Kurt's heart skipped a beat or two, and he nodded as he bit his lip to keep from crying any more. "Of course." He gingerly climbed into the bed beside his twin, pulling the covers up over both of them and cautiously holding his arms out, wondering if Carson would even let him hold him like that. Carson considered them for a moment before settling clumsily into them, and Kurt forgot all about trying to stave off more tears as he held him close with one arm, using the other hand to gently stroke his hair. It was almost a mirror image of how they had been laying the night Kurt had his nightmare.

Please don't ever think I don't love you, Carsey, he thought as he gently kissed the top of Carson's head. I love you so much it hurts me sometimes.