"Ungh," moaned Carson wantonly as Luke slammed into him, every nerve in his body on fire with pure pleasure. Everything was hazy, and Carson wasn't sure if it was because of what Luke was doing to him, the fact that he was doing it to him against the large window of his flat where anyone could see them, or because of the pill the other man had given him earlier before they started. Most likely, it was all three. Carson had no idea what kind of drug he was currently high on, and he honestly didn't give a fuck as long as it was making him feel so good.

Which, come to think of it, was a pretty accurate description of his life in general lately since meeting Luke.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck," he groaned, tightening his arms around Luke's neck and his legs around his waist to keep himself steady as the other man held him up with both arms, violently thrusting into him with animalistic grunts that made Carson's already sensory-overloaded body shudder even more. The glass of the window against Carson's back was no longer quite as cold as it had felt at first. He could feel it warming up from the heat being generated by their writhing bodies as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to be fucked into oblivion.

"Mmmph," Luke grunted low in his throat, his lips latching onto Carson's neck and sucking and licking at the sensitive skin mercilessly. "Taste so goddamn nice"

"Tell me something I… ungh…. Something I don't already fucking know," Carson sassed back, letting out a yelp as Luke suddenly angled his hips slightly differently and plowed right into the most sensitive spot inside of him. Luke silenced him with a kiss, his teeth nipping at Carson's lips as he increased his pace so much that Carson felt as though he were likely to fall at any time if he let go of Luke even a little bit.

"Oh… oh god, mmmph," Carson whined, everything around him blurring into an incomprehensible mess of light, color, and sound as his orgasm hit him suddenly, his body exploding like a volcano as he screamed and twitched and writhed helplessly in Luke's grip. He felt the arms holding him up begin to tighten as Luke gave a few more violent thrusts and then stilled, moaning loudly as he pulsed inside of him. He buried his face in Carson's neck, sucking a new hickey into the skin as he slowly rotated his hips and came down from his climax. Carson's eyes rolled back, his body almost entirely depleted of energy now that it had been drugged and fucked out of him. He almost didn't notice when Luke finally let go and he slumped down the wall, landing in a naked, sweaty heap on the living room floor in front of the window. He gathered enough energy to flop onto his back, his eyes trying and failing to focus on the ceiling tiles as Luke lit a cigarette and held another out to him.

"It'll clear your head," he said as Carson accepted the cigarette and allowed Luke to light it for him. He took a long drag and blew a puff of smoke up into the air.

"Don't want my head cleared, though," he murmured thoughtfully as the ceiling tiles formed peculiar shapes in front of his drug-addled eyes. "Sometimes it's better not to feel anything."

"That's the fucking truth, mate," Luke agreed with him, although Carson doubted that he really understood what he'd meant. He'd mostly been thinking about Kurt. Or, more precisely, trying not to think about it, because every time he did, he felt a pang in his chest when he remembered how good Kurt's hand in his own had felt after such a very long time. And how he'd very nearly considered caving in to Kurt's pleas to put the past behind them, but couldn't quite get over the hurdle that was the undeniable fact that his twin had moved on with Sebastian.

That had been when he'd started taking a lot more drugs when he didn't need to be alert for school, accepting pretty much anything Luke gave him willingly, so eager was he to forget that anything in the entire world existed except for the most basic and primal of feelings. Sex. Hunger. Exhaustion.

"But then again," Luke continued hazily as he blew a smoke ring into the air, "Sometimes I think there's actually nothing better in the world than to feel everything. All at once. Just… just take it all in and shit, you know?"

You wouldn't say that if you knew what that felt like, Carson mused to himself, the ceiling tiles dancing in front of him and slowly taking on a disorganized, mandala-like form.

"What you say?" asked Luke, and Carson suddenly realized he must have spoken out loud without meaning to.

"Nothing," he replied quickly, closing his eyes to try to regain a tiny bit of his awareness. He felt, rather than saw, Luke turn over onto his side and stare at him, resting his head in his palm as his face took on a contemplating, thoughtful look.

"There's a lot I don't know about you, isn't there, Carson Phillips?" said Luke, phrasing it more like a statement than a question.

"Maybe."

"Don't bullshit me," said Luke as his face broke into his trademark, borderline evil grin. "You've got a past, hmm?"

Carson refused to look at him. "So don't we all."

"Mmm, but there's something about yours," Luke pressed, his grin unwavering as he reached a hand out and began tracing patterns into the skin of Carson's chest with the tip of his finger. "You're very mysterious."

"And that appeals to you, I suppose."

"Makes me hard, to be honest."

Carson snorted. "Yes, well, I hate to disappoint you, but there's nothing particularly extraordinary about me or my past. I'm just a regular asshole who's led a regular asshole life," he lied. "Just like everyone else."

"Uh-huh," said Luke, clearly not believing him for a second, but thankfully dropping the subject for the time being as he leaned in closer and placed a rough kiss to Carson's lips. Carson giggled, barely managing to put the end of his cigarette into a nearby ashtray before Luke was clumsily climbing on top of him.

That's better, he thought as he focused on the feel of Luke's nimble fingers eagerly exploring his body. Focus only on what feels good, and forget all the bullshit.

Carson wasn't the only one who had spent the past few weeks trying desperately to fight off the looming spectre of the twins' unexpected reunion. Kurt had been doing the exact same thing, especially when he was around Sebastian. The last thing he wanted was to discuss Carson with him, considering the circumstances. It wouldn't do anyone any good, and would more than likely just end up doing nothing but hurting his boyfriend.

So, Kurt was doing his best to act as normal as possible, and he thought he was doing pretty well, at least outwardly. Unfortunately, something rather troubling was making that difficult for him lately. Namely, that Carson's awful boyfriend/fuck buddy/whatever the hell he was had sent him a friend request on Facebook shortly after their little run-in at the store.

Needless to say, a host of complicated emotions had overtaken Kurt's senses at the sight of the request, sitting there in his inbox like a flashing neon sign, the cheerful "1 New Friend Request" sitting in the corner of his homepage like it was deliberately taunting him.

Do I want to accept it?

No. Fuck no. That Luke guy can go fuck himself raw with a chainsaw for all I give a fuck.

…..But then, he might be the key to checking on how Carson is really doing. He's around him more than I am now, after all.

Aaaaaand we're back to FUCK OFF.

Also, if I accept it, it will probably just piss Carson off even more. Come to think of it, does Carson even know that Luke is trying to add me?

…But I'm dying to know what kind of douche this guy actually is and just what the hell is so fucking special about him that Carson's making him a regular "thing."

Because he looks like just a garden variety asshole to me. Look at his profile photo with that stupid smile on his face. He looks like a twat.

…..I'll accept it but he'd better not make any more stupid comments like he did at the store.

I need to know how he's treating my baby.

'Cause if he's hurting him I'm going to knock out every one of his teeth. Let's see him smile so wide then.

Even after more or less making up his mind with that inner debate, it still took Kurt several days to be able to bring himself to accept the friend request. He'd done it right before his first class of the morning, and by the time he got out of class an hour later, his phone was gleefully notifying him that he already had a missed message from Luke, as well as at least five new photo comments.

He went through the comments first, his blood boiling with a new bout of rage with every one of them that he read on the bench outside his drama classroom.

"Hot."

"Pretty lips you've got."

"Unbutton the shirt a bit more next time."

"Nice ass in this one. Looks just like someone else's I know ;) "

That last comment almost made Kurt throw his phone clear across the hallway, but he restrained himself in the nick of time. He set to work deleting each and every comment Luke had left him and then angrily shoved his phone back in his pocket as he stood up to leave. He didn't bother going through Luke's profile, which he had planned on doing, or opening the message from him on his Messenger app, spitefully choosing to ignore it for the time being. He already couldn't stand the sight of this guy, and it had only taken five smarmy comments to accomplish that.

And I sure as HELL don't want him around Carson, much less touching him. Fucking gross.

He barely paid attention to anything school related for the rest of the day, his mind too preoccupied with trying to figure out what, exactly, Luke was trying to accomplish with this little stunt. Was he just trying to piss Kurt off? Did Carson know? Had Carson put him up to it? Frankly, Kurt wouldn't have been too surprised if that was the case. Hell, it wouldn't even be the most out there thing his twin would have ever done.

He didn't think Carson would much approve of the content of those photo comments, though, which was what gave Kurt enough pause to consider that maybe his brother had not been behind the whole thing at all.

Goddammit. Even when he isn't around he's giving me a headache.

He did eventually look through Luke's profile later that night, curled up in the corner of the sofa with his phone in his hand and his feet resting on Sebastian's lap as his boyfriend absentmindedly scrolled through something on his laptop. He had expected to find a bunch of photos of Luke and Carson together, but, surprisingly, there were only a few. The guy's profile mostly consisted of selfies, memes that Kurt didn't understand, and the occasional, vaguely threatening status ranting about whoever Luke happened to be pissed at that day.

"Smarmy asshat," he muttered under his breath as his phone vibrated with another message from Luke that Kurt refused to open, just like its counterpart from earlier that day.

"You ok?" asked Sebastian, glancing at him curiously over the rim of the glasses he'd taken to using lately when he was on his computer. They weren't prescription, just cheap wire readers from a corner shop, and Kurt suspected that he only wore them because Kurt thought they made him look sexy.

Kurt remembered where he was and shook himself out of his growing rage, closing his Facebook app and giving Sebastian what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, babe. Just sick of reading about, um… Kanye West," he finished lamely. "He's a smarmy asshat."

"O…kay," said Sebastian, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Watcha working on?" asked Kurt, changing the subject as he crawled over Sebastian's body and rested his head on his shoulder.

"A resume," answered Sebastian. "Or at least the skeleton of one."

"Why don't you take a break?" suggested Kurt, gently closing the laptop and putting it carefully on the coffee table before pressing his lips to Sebastian's in a deep kiss.

"Mmm… I could go for that," agreed Sebastian, much to Kurt's relief. The foolproof key to pretending everything was fine was to distract both of them by any means necessary.

"Good," said Kurt, kissing him again and letting his fingers trail down his boyfriend's clothed chest teasingly. "No!" he suddenly blurted out as Sebastian started to take off his cheap glasses.

"What?" Sebastian spluttered.

Kurt gave him a coy grin. "Leave them on. Take your shirt off, but leave those on."

Carson sighed in frustration, frowning down at the math problem in front of him and wishing that his homework would just magically finish itself. Writing assignments were a breeze to him, but math was a completely different story altogether. It wasn't that he didn't understand it. Well, most of the time, anyway. He understood it perfectly, it just frustrated him because he found it incredibly dull.

"And here we go again with the fucking imaginary numbers," he muttered bitterly as he scratched his pencil against his notebook paper. "How about I shove this book up the author's imaginary ass? See how passionate they are about numbers then."

"Then quit wasting your time with it," said Luke from the other end of the couch, where he was sitting in his boxers and a tank top with his laptop open in front of him and a bowl of cereal in one hand.

"Wish I could, but grades are kind of important," Carson retorted.

"Says who?"

"Says me."

Luke shook his head and rolled his eyes. "You don't need to go to some fancy-ass university to learn math. I learned it on the street since I was seven."

Carson grinned down at his paper. "Was Little Lukey beating up other kids for their lunch money back in the day?" he teased.

"Little Lukey was doing a lot of things that made him into the man he is today," replied Luke, his eyes glued to the laptop screen.

"Such as?"

"Do your homework," said Luke pointedly.

"Uuuugh, fine," said Carson exaggeratedly. "I'm almost finished, anyway. What are you working on?"

"Looking through your brother's Facebook."

Carson's pencil stopped writing, the lead snapping as he punched a hole through the paper with it without thinking. He suddenly felt very hot and very cold at the same time. "What?"

"He is seriously handsome," said Luke casually, as if he were discussing the color of a shirt he'd found online. "Why the fuck did you never mention him?"

"Luke, get off Kurt's profile," Carson snapped, slamming his notebook shut and glaring at the other man seethingly.

"No," Luke refused. "I'm quite enjoying this little glimpse into your life. How fucking hot is this?" he added, turning the laptop around so that Carson could see the photo that was filling the screen, one of himself and Kurt with their arms around each other from what seemed, to him, to be a very long lifetime ago. Carson felt his stomach knot up at the sight of it, and he quickly focused his eyes back on his closed notebook.

"Seriously, Luke, knock it off," he snapped.

"We don't like to discuss our twin, do we?" Luke teased. "What happened, did he make off with your man or something?"

"We just… we don't get along, that's all," Carson mumbled. "Can we please just drop it?"

"Why don't you get along?" Luke pressed, ignoring Carson's request.

"We just don't, ok?"

"Alright, alright, I get it," said Luke with a grin. "Sibling rivalry. Even hotter."

"Oh my god, I will give you the blowjob of your fucking life if you drop the subject right now," muttered Carson irritably.

"I'm gonna send him a friend request," said Luke, his mischievous grin growing wider as he scrolled back up Kurt's page.

"Oh my god, don't," said Carson through gritted teeth. He wasn't sure why the thought of Luke and Kurt being Facebook friends irritated him so much, but he knew for sure that it was the very last thing he wanted to happen right now. Part of it was definitely the fact that he worked very hard to keep himself guarded around Luke, letting him through his defensive walls just enough, but never too much. He wanted to be in control of this relationship every step of the way, and involving Kurt felt like some of that control was going to be taken from him.

The other part of it was that he felt just a tiny twinge of jealousy that Luke was even paying attention to Kurt at all. Which was stupid as hell, because Carson knew damn well what his brother must think of Luke, judging by his reaction to him at the store.

"Seriously, don't," he insisted.

"Too late," Luke announced gleefully. "Already sent it."

Carson threw his notebook on the floor and crossed his arms, glaring daggers at Luke and hoping he could feel just how pissed off he was. "Well, guess who is not getting a blowjob now?"

"Guess who's wrong about that?" replied Luke, the toothy grin spreading across his face as he shut his laptop and set it down on the floor in front of the couch.

"You think I'm fucking kidding?" snapped Carson. "You'll be lucky if I ever touch your dick again even to throw water on it when it's on fire."

Luke chuckled low in his throat. "You are lying through your teeth, Cars."

"Fucking try me," muttered Carson.

Luke scooted closer to him and Carson curled himself into a tight ball, since there wasn't anywhere else for him to escape to. He glared as Luke maneuvered one arm around his shoulders and leaned his face in close to him. "I may not know a hell of a lot about you, but I do know a few useful things," he said, his breath hot against Carson's skin.

"Such as?"

"Such as that, even if you're pissed, all I have to do is this," said Luke, nuzzling his face against Carson's neck and placing his lips on the sensitive skin. He began sucking a hickey into it, his mouth warm and wet, and Carson felt himself begin to grow very hot. His lips parted of their own accord, and he let out a tiny moan before he could stop himself.

"Turns you around awfully fucking quick, doesn't it?" said Luke triumphantly, trailing one hand down Carson's chest and stomach until it reached its target and firmly cupped his growing erection. Carson let out a louder moan and rocked his hips up into the touch, severely disappointed with himself for his inability to stand his ground for longer than one second. That was the kind of power Luke seemed to have over him, and sometimes it scared him to death.

And other times, it just made him so horny he felt like he was going to burst out of his skin.

"You fold like a house of cards," murmured Luke in between hot kisses pressed to Carson's neck. He palmed Carson's cock as he kissed him, running his hand in alternations between rough circles and teasing squeezes that made Carson's blood boil from how turned on he was. He felt himself slipping into a haze of skin, groans, and sweat as he soon found himself being picked up like a doll and carried straight into the bedroom, where he was quickly stripped of the rest of his clothes, his body quickly developing a series of large, purple splotches as Luke worked his way all over him with his lips and teeth.

"This doesn't…. oh… this doesn't fucking mean I don't still think you're a complete ass," Carson panted, biting his lip to keep from moaning out loud as Luke nipped the skin on his inner thigh. His cock was throbbing unbearably by now, and he was almost willing to sacrifice a puppy if he had to in order to get Luke to touch it some more, but that didn't mean he had to make that obvious.

Luke grinned up at him. "Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that," he said cheerfully as he placed a teasing kiss to the tip of Carson's arousal. Carson's eyes rolled back in his head and he gave up, completely surrendering himself to the pure, blissful pleasure of Luke's hands and mouth all over him. Luke flipped him over on his stomach, leaving another trail of hickeys down his back and pausing to pay extra attention to the spot just above his ass, where his childhood scar was.

"Interesting mark you've got there," Luke remarked thoughtfully.

"Yeah, shut up and fuck me," Carson demanded, and Luke thankfully obliged, wasting no time in retrieving a condom and lube from the bedside drawer. Carson closed his eyes and slipped away in a haze of lust, his blood pumping in his ears as Luke prepared him and slipped inside, holding him down by the arms as he fucked him roughly. He peppered Carson's neck and shoulders with kisses as he pounded into him, his teeth grazing the skin in just the right way to send sparks of white hot electricity coursing through his veins. Carson moaned wantonly, screaming out his pleasure when his needy cock finally pulsed and came untouched, aided only by the rough bedsheets that were rubbing up against it from the force of Luke's fucking. He felt the other man follow him quickly with his own climax as he circled his hips increasingly slowly until he'd stopped altogether, his exhausted, dead weight draped heavily on top of Carson.

Afterwards, once their breathing had returned to normal and they had cleaned themselves up and were sprawled out naked on top of the sheets, Carson silently wondered when the hell he had become such a pushover. What the fuck is it about this guy that makes my legs fall open for him on demand even when he pisses me off? Does my dick seriously control me that much?

"So," said Luke, the sound of his voice cutting through Carson's thoughts. "I seriously want to know. What's the deal with you and your brother?"

Carson rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Drop. It."

"Well excuse the fuck out of me for trying to figure out a little of what makes you tick," Luke retorted.

Carson turned his head and locked eyes with him. There was something slightly different about the expression on Luke's face. It still had its usual smarminess, for the most part, but there was something out of the ordinary around the eyes. He almost looked…. Sincere. Sort of. Maybe he actually was genuinely interested and wasn't just being a dick.

Carson sighed. "We have a complicated relationship, ok? That's all you're getting out of me. Next subject."

Luke was silent for a moment before he seemed to accept that answer and moved on. "Ok, if you're not going to tell me about that, can I at least ask you the story behind that scar on your back?"

Carson froze. He'd been prepared for Luke to prod him about Kurt all night; he hadn't expected that much of a subject change so quickly. He silently debated whether the new question was worse than the one about Kurt. He wasn't exactly prepared to open up that much to Luke, even if that aspect of his life was at least a little more palatable to the uninitiated than "I've fucked my brother" was likely to be.

"You don't have to tell me," said Luke in a slightly softer version of his usual voice, the closest Carson had ever heard to a sympathetic tone from him. "It's fine."

Carson hesitated for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of answering the question before he finally took a deep breath and locked eyes with Luke's piercing ones. "Let's just say that Little Carson didn't exactly have the happiest of childhoods and leave it at that, ok?"

Luke's reaction was difficult to read in the increasing darkness of the bedroom, but Carson thought he saw a flicker of understanding pass over his face as the words sunk in. "Right," he said after a moment of silence.

"Yeah," mumbled Carson.

Luke didn't say anything else, but to Carson's surprise, he did reach a hand out and take Carson's with it. This was the first genuinely affectionate thing Carson had ever seen him do, and he felt his heart skip a beat in his chest when Luke leaned in and placed a kiss on his lips, a much softer one than he usually did.

Just as soon as it had happened, the moment was over, and Luke let go of his hand and sat up on the bed. "We should probably shower or something," he said, clearly trying to get back to business as usual, and Carson understood that to mean, without him having to say it, that he wasn't going to push him for any more information.

"Yeah," Carson agreed, letting Luke take his hand again and pull him toward the bathroom.

"I do believe you owe me a blowjob," said Luke, his grin back on his face in full force.

"Oh fuck ooooffff."

Something was bothering Kurt. That much had become perfectly clear to Sebastian over the past few weeks. The thing about Kurt was that, the more something was bugging him, the more he tried to compensate for that by acting overly cheerful and happy. Not to mention horny. And Sebastian couldn't help but notice that they'd been having a lot of sex lately, even by their standards. Whether Kurt realized it or not, and Sebastian was guessing it was a big "not," he was as clear as cellophane when he had a problem he was trying to hide. Concealing his feelings was definitely not one of his strong suits.

Sebastian wasn't sure what to do about it. Of course, if Kurt was unhappy, he wanted to help him in some way. He didn't like it when Kurt was upset. The idea of such an exquisite creature being in any sort of pain was almost physically painful to him.

On the other hand, he was almost afraid to address it, because when he really stopped to think about it, there really weren't too many things that could bother Kurt enough to alter his behavior like that. In fact, Sebastian could only think of one thing it could possibly be, and that thing was, obviously, Carson.

The thought made him cringe.

So, he did what Kurt seemed to want, which was to ignore it and hope it went away. Whatever Carson had done this time, hopefully it would blow over soon and they could get back to their lives in peace. Yes, I realize exactly how selfish that sounds.

I am selfish. I am horribly, horribly selfish.

His own selfishness almost made him worry even more than Kurt's behavior did. Was he being too self-serving in ignoring an obvious problem? He was Kurt's boyfriend, after all. That was what he'd wished to be for so long, and part of that meant that it was his job to be supportive. So, didn't that kind of make it his responsibility to ask Kurt what was wrong and help him through it, if he could?

Then again…. Kurt's boyfriend was what he'd wished to be for so long. He didn't think he could bear the thought of the ever-looming spectre of Carson coming back to snatch Kurt away from him again. He could practically feel his chest start to tighten at the notion.

But in the end, after weeks of deliberation, Sebastian couldn't stand it anymore. Whatever was bothering Kurt was clearly not going to go away any time soon, and Sebastian decided he would feel like the worst boyfriend ever if he didn't at least try to address it with him.

He a chose a quiet moment one night as he lay in bed beside Kurt, who had just settled into his arms with his back pressed against Sebastian's chest. He smelled of coconut, various fruits, and the aloe of his facial cleansers, and Sebastian took a deep sniff of him to let the scent take over his senses for a moment. He could never get enough of the way Kurt smelled.

"You smell nice," he murmured into Kurt's hair.

"I know," said Kurt, and Sebastian could hear the slight smile in his voice. "I used the coconut shampoo."

"Mmm. I noticed."

Kurt turned out the light beside the bed and settled himself deeper into Sebastian's embrace, letting out a contented sigh, and Sebastian almost lost his nerve. He didn't really want to ruin this perfect moment, but he had promised himself he would try to help Kurt. And that would never happen if he didn't speak up.

"Hey…. Kurt?" he asked hesitantly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?" murmured Kurt sleepily.

"Are you ok?"

He felt Kurt stiffen slightly in his arms. "What do you mean?" the other man asked, his voice suddenly guarded.

"Well, lately you've been…. I don't know. Different," said Sebastian lamely.

"Different how?" asked Kurt.

"Look, babe, you're actually really bad at hiding when something is bugging you," Sebastian explained gently. "And something has definitely been bugging you lately."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kurt insisted firmly. "Let's go to sleep, ok?"

"Kurt."

"Sebastian, seriously, I'm fine."

Sebastian sighed. "Kurt, baby, please? I know something is wrong, and whatever it is, I want to help you with it. If you'll let me." He pressed a kiss into Kurt's shoulder and held him as close as possible. "You can trust me with anything, you know," he said softly.

For a moment, Kurt didn't say anything, and Sebastian was ready to back off and give him more time if that's what he wanted. He didn't want to push him and end up making him even more closed off than he already was. He was just about to kiss him goodnight when Kurt finally moved in his arms, his shoulders slumping slightly as he let out a shaky breath.

"I saw Carson a while ago," he said at last. Sebastian had been expecting that, of course, but the words still made him stiffen with what felt a lot like ominous fear.

"I thought that's what it might be," he admitted, deliberately keeping his voice as calm as possible so as to encourage Kurt to keep talking.

"It was at the store a few weeks ago," Kurt continued. "I wasn't expecting to see him."

Sebastian swallowed. "I, um… I take it things didn't go well?"

"He was with a guy," Kurt said sullenly, and the fact that he wasn't facing Sebastian at the moment made his tone a little hard to read. When ISN'T he with a guy?

"Um.." Sebastian said carefully. "Well, that's not…. That's not unusual, though, is it?"

"This wasn't like that," Kurt explained, his voice dripping in barely disguised disdain. "This was some… some… some absolute douche. Carson is seeing him regularly, apparently. He looked like some wannabe gangster, and.. and… and he…"

Sebastian began to get an uncomfortable feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. "What?" he asked, almost in a whisper.

Kurt let out another shaky breath, and Sebastian could tell he was trying to keep himself together. "Sebastian, he was covered in blood and bruises."

"Who? The guy?"

"No, Carson. I pulled him into the bathroom and asked him what the fuck was up with that, and he said it was just a bar fight or something, but I don't…. I really don't know," Kurt said, the words pouring out now that he'd been given an opening to speak. "And then the fucker friended me on Facebook, and I really don't like the look of him, and I don't like the thought of him around Carson, and I just… I just… I just hate this," Kurt whined.

Sebastian held him in silence for a moment, trying to absorb Kurt's words and interpret what they really meant. "He friended you on Facebook?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing at the idea.

"Yeah."

Sebastian cleared his throat. "May, um… may I have a look at his page?"

Kurt reached for his phone, opening his Facebook app and handing it over to him. A picture of a young, blonde guy filled the screen, his mouth stretched into a grin that would almost have reminded Sebastian of the Joker if it had been covered in makeup. There were a few photos of him with Carson further down the page, and yes, Sebastian had to admit, he did give off a slight asshole vibe, even through photos, but for Carson, that wasn't so out of the ordinary.

"Well?" Kurt pressed, looking over Sebastian's shoulder. "Doesn't he look like the biggest twat you ever saw?"

Sebastian glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Kurt, honey, are, um… are you sure you aren't just letting jealousy do the talking here?"

"Of course not!" Kurt snapped. "I am not jealous, this guy is a total dick. He's left comments about my ass on my own pictures."

"WHAT?"

"I deleted them," mumbled Kurt.

"O….kay, well, I'll admit, he does sound kind of, um… dickish, but… I don't know," Sebastian shrugged. "You and I both know Carson isn't exactly a stranger to hanging around with less than savory dudes."

"But his bruises..."

"Were probably from a bar fight," said Sebastian gently, even though that detail did slightly bother him.

"Well, I still don't like this fucker," muttered Kurt angrily. "And it's NOT because I'm jealous, because I'm not."

Sebastian closed the phone off and looked at him carefully. "Kurt, it's ok to admit that you're jealous."

Kurt's face flushed so brightly that Sebastian could clearly see it even though the room was dark. "I'm not jealous, I'm just…"

Sebastian locked eyes with him. "Kurt."

Kurt's eyes met his defiantly for a moment before finally starting to drift downward sadly. "I'm just jealous," he admitted, refusing to look at Sebastian as he said it. His chin started to quiver as his voice came out in shaky waves. "I am, but I don't like telling you that because I… I don't want…" His eyes started to fill up with tears, and Sebastian pulled him close and rubbed his arm comfortingly. His own emotions were running haywire, but he tried to ignore them and focus on what was best for Kurt in the moment.

"Kurt, I'm going to ask you a few things," he said, after a moment of careful thought. "And I want you to know that, however you answer them, I will understand completely. I just want you to be honest. Ok?"

Kurt sniffed. "Ok," he agreed with a shaky breath.

Sebastian closed his eyes and steeled up his courage. "Do you love me?"

Kurt frowned. "Of course!" he insisted immediately, with no hesitation at all. "God, Sebastian, I love you so much. You know that."

Sebastian nodded. He had known that, deep down, but still, hearing it said out loud was a relief. "Ok. And do you want to be with me?"

"Yes," said Kurt firmly, taking Sebastian's hand in his own. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Sebastian gave him a small smile. "Ok. I love you too, and I want nothing more than to be with you. You know that."

Kurt nodded.

"But," Sebastian continued. "I also want to ask you this. Do you still love Carson?" His stomach knotted itself as the words left his mouth, and he dreaded the answer even before it was spoken. "Remember, tell the truth."

Kurt hesitated for a long while, so long that Sebastian almost thought he wasn't going to answer, but finally he opened his mouth and focused his eyes to a spot on the wall somewhere to Sebastian's left.

"Yes."

The word hit him in the gut, but he pressed on bravely. "And if Carson were to come to you right now and tell you that he loves you and wants you back, what would you say?"

Kurt hesitated on that one for so long that Sebastian thought he really wouldn't get an answer this time, and he was almost relieved at not having to hear whatever that answer would have been. But, after several long, silent moments, Kurt finally locked eyes with him.

"I don't know," he whispered, his eyes filling with fresh tears. "I don't know. Don't hate me but I don't know." He started sobbing as Sebastian wrapped his arms around him tightly and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Shhh…. Baby, I don't hate you," he whispered soothingly as Kurt cried. "I could never hate you."

Never, as long as I live.

No matter what you would decide.

"Row 4, please come collect your essays," announced Professor Norris, jarring Carson out of the daydream he'd been having. Nothing fancy, really, just a daydream in which he was actually able to get a decent night's sleep for once. The past couple of weeks had not been kind to him, sleep-wise. Luke had been taking him along on a lot more fights, sometimes during times that required Carson to miss classes. And even though Carson got an adrenaline rush out of them, he also was so wired afterwards, between the excitement, the drugs, and the post-fight sex, that he had no prayer's chance in hell of getting any rest. Which meant, unfortunately, that he was constantly tired whenever he was in school lately.

He wearily trudged up to the front of the classroom and collected his essay from his professor, who gave him a concerned look as he handed the paper over to him.

"Mr. Phillips, forgive me for prying, but is everything ok?" the instructor asked.

"Everything's fine," Carson insisted. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, because this is the first time all term I've had to give you anything less than a perfect grade," Professor Norris explained gently. "And if you don't mind my saying so, you've been looking just a tad exhausted as of late."

"Oh, I um… I…" Carson stammered. "I just... I've got so much on my plate lately, I guess I just haven't been getting much rest." Well, that wasn't a total lie, at least. He did have a lot on his plate, just nothing particularly academic.

The professor looked at him carefully. "Try to take care of yourself, ok? You're by far my best student."

Carson nodded. "I will, sir. Thank you." He took his essay back to his seat, where he couldn't stop focusing on the red grade on top of the paper. He was so used to seeing perfect grades that the sight of one that wasn't was severely jarring to him.

I'm going to have to tell Luke no more school day fighting, he mused tiredly as he stifled a yawn.

Class ended shortly, and he slung his bag over his shoulder and hurried out of the classroom, hoping that he could squeeze in a quick visit to the student center for a coffee before his next class started. He needed the caffeine if he was going to make it through the rest of the day like a human instead of a zombie.

That plan quickly got derailed as soon as he turned a corner and saw Luke standing there, casually leaning against the wall with a cigarette in one hand. He took a long drag of it as his eyes locked on Carson, and he quickly blew the smoke out as a grin spread over his face.

"There's my man," said Luke cheerfully.

Carson wanted to ask him what he was doing there, but he really didn't have to. There was only a couple of possible reasons why Luke would be meeting him at school. Either he wanted to fuck in the bathrooms, or he wanted Carson to come along with him on an "errand."

Either way, Carson had the feeling the rest of his day was about to be fucked, academically speaking.

"I can't go anywhere today, Luke," he said pointedly. "I have class."

"I know you have class, I'm not a moron," retorted Luke. "But your next one is math, anyway, right?"

"Yeah."

"So what's the problem? You hate math."

Carson sighed. "Yeah, but my grade in that is slipping even more than my writing grade."

Luke took a drag of his cigarette and reached into the pocket of his jacket. Carson expected him to come out with the cigarette box, but instead, his fingers re-emerged holding the stem of a single, delicate flower. It was dark violet, and looked suspiciously like the flowers that were growing on the edge of the trimmed bushes in front of the campus library. Which was probably because it clearly was one of those flowers, and Luke had yanked it from its root on his way to Carson's class.

Carson stared at it. "Is that a flower?"

Luke shrugged casually. "I know your favorite color is blue, but this is close enough to blue, isn't it?"

Carson couldn't help the tiny smile that started to spread over his face at the notion that Luke, of all people, had picked a flower for him. This was by far the most out of character, borderline romantic thing he'd ever done.

"Is this your way of bribing me into going with you today?"

"Maybe," said Luke, looking awkward. Carson smiled and took the flower, holding it up to his nose to sniff in the pleasant fragrance.

"Look at you, being all sweet and romantic and shit," he teased him.

"Yeah, yeah, let's not make a big deal of it," Luke protested, grinning at him cheekily. "So, come on. Just one errand, and then I'll drop you back here. Probably won't take long."

"You're going to drop me back at school when I'm all bloody and look like I just survived a battle?" Carson pointed out. "That's the point, if I leave I'll be gone all day and miss all my classes."

"Ok, just this one last time, then," Luke prodded, leaning in to press his lips against Carson's. Hayley walked by them right at that very moment, and Carson could see the dirty look she was shooting at them even out of the corner of his eye.

"You got a problem, princess?" Luke asked her pointedly.

"Public displays of affection are gross and distracting to the student body in general," she quipped back airily.

"That's not what you seemed to think back when you were trying to grope my dick in class, hon," replied Carson sweetly.

"Get a room."

"Get a guy who likes tits," replied Luke, casually grabbing Carson's ass and slapping it so that Hayley could clearly see him do it. She threw him a scornful look and flounced away, her ponytail flipping from one side to the other as she walked off.

"Well, to be fair, I do like tits," Carson pointed out.

Luke raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yep. I don't do anything with them anymore, but I still like them."

Luke looked intrigued. "I learn something new about you every day, don't I, Cars?"

"I guess you do."

Luke gave him a hopeful look. "Soooooo…. You coming with me or what?"

Carson bit his lip and had a silent debate with himself. He really couldn't afford to miss much more of his classes if he wanted to maintain his good grades, but on the other hand, he also couldn't see any reason not to skip math. It wasn't like he couldn't borrow someone's notes later.

"Ugh… fine," he relented. "But this is the absolute last time, ok?"

Luke grinned. "Ok, ok. No more school day runs after this, I promise." He grabbed Carson's hand and pulled him toward the parking lot, where his car was waiting for them.

"So, where are we going this time?" he asked, twirling his flower in his hand as Luke started the car and began driving them through the city streets. "Someone leave you high and dry on a debt again?" Granted, he didn't know every single detail about what sort of shady things Luke was involved in, since he'd never asked too many questions. He liked keeping that air of mystery around Luke that kept him a bit of a puzzling oddity. Everything was more fun when you didn't have all the answers.

But, he could make a pretty educated guess that it was absolutely drug related, and that the people they were delivering beatings to had screwed Luke over in some way or another.

Luke just puffed away at his cigarette and kept his eyes straight on the road. "Nah. Not today, anyway."

"Okaaaay, so then what are we doing?" Carson pressed.

"Let's just say we're filling the coffers a little," said Luke mysteriously.

Carson frowned. "I don't follow."

Luke said nothing, just kept driving them toward their mystery destination. It took Carson a while to realize that the streets they were driving down were not the same ones where Luke usually ran errands. They were on a different side of the city completely, in fact. An unsettling feeling began to develop in Carson's stomach, but he couldn't quite place his finger on why.

Luke finally pulled the car into a semi-secluded spot on the far edge of a parking lot, across from a strip containing a bank, a coffee shop, and a used bookstore. The unsettling feeling turned into queasiness as Carson laid eyes on the bank.

"Luke," he said carefully, trying to keep himself calm. "We're not robbing a bank, are we?" His chest felt tight at the thought. He couldn't do this, it was way too risky, even for him. He would be ruined for life. He'd definitely go to prison and could kiss his future career goodbye.

Luke gave him an amused look and let out a raucous snort. "What? No!" he laughed. "Christ, Cars, what kind of idiot do you take me for?"

Carson let out a sigh of relief. Oh, thank god. "Ok, so then what are we doing?" he pressed.

"Any time now," said Luke thoughtfully, more to himself than to Carson. "Every day like clockwork at this time, he goes into that coffee place."

"Who does?" Carson was extremely confused by this point.

"Bingo," said Luke under his breath. Carson followed his gaze to the coffee shop door, where several people were leaving at once. His eyes, however, only focused on the last one out the door, which happened to be…

"Fuck," he muttered under his own breath, sliding down in his seat, even though Sebastian couldn't possibly see him from all the way across the parking lot. Whatever they were here to do, he did not need Sebastian catching a glimpse of him doing it.

"Alright, come on. There he is," said Luke, unbuckling his seatbelt and waiting for Carson to do the same.

Carson blinked at him. "What?" The queasiness was beginning to return to his stomach now as he slowly began putting the pieces together.

Luke rolled his eyes. "His money isn't going to teleport itself into our pockets, Cars, we have to, you know… beat it out of him."

Carson felt sick as everything dawned on him at once. Luke had taken him here specifically to beat Sebastian. "But…. But we…" he stammered in protest as a million thoughts raced through his head, chief among them what Kurt's face would look like if his boyfriend's face was a bloody pulp the next time he saw it. "Why the fuck?" he asked lamely as he tried to maintain a normal rhythm of breathing.

Luke sighed. "Christ's sake, Carson, it's not like he doesn't have it coming."

"What the fuck are you even talking about?" Carson demanded. "I thought you only did this to people who've wronged you personally."

"Hasn't he?" said Luke calmly. "You were dating him and he dumped you over for your brother. He hurt you, so therefore, he's wronged me. Plus, I know he's got a fuckton of money, so he owes that to us."

Carson almost didn't know how the hell to respond to that for a while. On one hand, the fact that this was some bizarre form of defending his honor was really really fucking sweet of Luke. On the other, however, Luke hadn't just jumped to the entirely wrong conclusion. He'd pretty much flew right to it on a red eye flight.

"I… ok, that… that is so fucking wrong, I don't even…" Carson stammered as he shook his head. "That is not what happened, and we are not doing this."

"Why the fuck not?" Luke demanded.

"Because we just aren't," Carson insisted firmly. "We're not beating up my brother's boyfriend, so either pick someone else or take me back to school."

Luke's face darkened, his eyes narrowing as he locked them onto Carson's, and Carson felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Luke had never looked at him like that before, and it scared him. "Give me one good reason why not," Luke demanded forcefully.

Carson bit his lip and considered his options. He had to admit, the idea of roughing Sebastian up a bit was kind of tempting. After all, the man had pretty much been responsible for most of his recent misery, either directly or indirectly, and didn't Carson deserve a chance to get a little revenge for that?

However, something inside him, which felt suspiciously like his conscience, would simply not allow him to go through with it. Not even just for Sebastian's sake, but for Kurt's. Kurt would be devastated. Not only that, but Carson had the uneasy feeling that Kurt would know exactly who'd done it, even if Luke worked entirely alone. He'd never forgive him then.

"Well?" snapped Luke.

Carson meet his steely gaze with one of his own. "Because I fucking said no."

Luke's expression changed completely to one that represented the determination of someone who was not used to being told no and wasn't going to let it stand this time. "Stay in the fucking car, then," he said sharply, opening his own door and getting out. Carson watched in horror for a second as he strode steadfastly across the parking lot, headed in the direction that Sebastian had walked. Pure adrenaline rushed through Carson's veins as he yanked the passenger side door open and ran after Luke as fast as he could.

"Luke!" he shouted after him, thankful that Sebastian was far enough away by now that he was unlikely to hear the commotion. He reached Luke in record time and grabbed him forcefully by the arm, yanking him back in the direction of the car.

"Let fucking go," snapped Luke, pulling his arm free from Carson's grasp and glaring at him angrily.

"Get back to the car," Carson retorted, his voice every bit as full of fire and fury as Luke's.

"Or what?"

"Or I'm sleeping at my own fucking flat tonight, and every night for the foreseeable future," said Carson furiously. "I'm not fucking around, we are not doing this."

The two men stared each other down for a moment, Luke's eyes boring into Carson's, neither one of them willing to back down. Finally, Luke seemed to cave, his eyes losing much of their fire, although the overall expression on his face was one of contempt. He said nothing, but he did follow Carson back to the car and slid in behind the wheel, his eyes fixed firmly on the windshield in anger as Carson resumed his seat beside him.

For his part, Carson had no idea what to say, either. The car ride was spent in relative silence as Luke focused on the road and Carson pulled out his phone to start texting around and see who would be willing to give up their math notes the next day.

"Who are you talking to?" Luke's accusatory voice momentarily distracted Carson away from the text he was sending to Mason, the guy Carson knew always got the best grades in their math course. He chose to ignore Luke, concentrating instead on composing his best pleading text. He needed those notes.

"I said, who are you talking to?" Luke repeated, his tone more irritated this time.

"Someone," snapped Carson.

"Who?" demanded Luke.

"Excuse me, I must have missed the part where that was any of your fucking business," said Carson. He didn't appreciate Luke's tone, and he was going to damn well make sure he knew that. The words were barely out of his mouth before Luke was yanking the phone out of his hand and throwing it roughly into the backseat, where it hit the side of one of the doors and fell to the ground.

"Are you out of your goddamn mind?" screeched Carson, his blood hot with anger. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I asked you a question," snapped Luke.

"And I gave you a fucking answer," retorted Carson furiously. "Not my fault if you didn't like it."

Luke glared at him, but didn't say anything in reply.

Carson rubbed his temples. "Ok, you know what? Fuck this. Take me home."

"I am taking us home."

"No, I mean my home," Carson reiterated. "My flat. Where I'm staying tonight. Alone."

"Oh for fuck's sake, Cars."

"Don't fucking "Cars" me. Take me home. NOW," Carson yelled. "Or I'll fucking hitchhike."

"FINE!" roared Luke, stepping on the gas and heading back in the direction of Carson's apartment building. Not another word was said for the duration of the ride, which Carson spent most of in the backseat after retrieving his, thankfully, unharmed phone from where it had landed under a mat. When Luke finally pulled up in front of the building, Carson said absolutely nothing as he yanked his door open and scrambled out of the car as fast as humanly possible. He'd barely made it out before Luke was careening back down the street on his way to who knew where. Probably off to beat up some shithead. Like I give a fuck.

He let himself into his flat and slammed the door shut behind him, not giving one solitary fuck whether it disturbed any of his neighbors. A glance at the clock on the kitchen stove reminded him that it was still very early in the day, and that he was tired as hell, even more so than he'd been at school that morning.

Fuck it all, anyway, he thought to himself bitterly, his blood boiling as he remembered that it was Luke's fault that he was always so tired in the first place. Fuck him. Fucking asshole. He made his way into the bedroom and flopped down on his bed, fully dressed except for his shoes, which he managed to find the energy to kick off onto the floor.

Fucking shithead thinks he can tell me what to fucking do he has another thing coming, was his last conscious thought before he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

He was awakened hours later by the sound of what he at first thought was a truck's horn honking, but which, in fact, turned out to be just his door buzzer. He yawned and glanced wearily at the clock beside his bed, which proudly boasted that it was almost 10 pm. Christ, I slept all day. Needed that.

The buzzer went off again, somehow sounding more urgent this time. "I'm coming! Christ, doesn't anyone in this city have any patience?" he muttered as he shuffled out into the living room and peered through the peephole in the door.

"Ugh," he groaned in disapproval as he opened the door just enough to peek his head out. "The fuck do you want?" he snapped at Luke, whose expression looked very different from the way it had the last time Carson had seen him.

Luke sighed. "Cars, can I come in?"

"Why? So you can interrogate me some more?" said Carson dryly.

Luke rolled his eyes. "Cars, come on. Don't be pissed, alright? Today was just a rough day all around."

"If this is your way of apologizing, it sucks ass."

Luke reached into the inside of his jacket and held his hand out for Carson to inspect what he'd taken out. It turned out to be more flowers, but unlike the one he'd given him at school that morning, these were both royal blue and clearly purchased from an actual florist.

"What, is this like, your thing now?" said Carson, although he had to admit that he was beginning to soften a little at the sight of the flowers.

"Now will you let me in?"

Carson hesitated a moment before sighing and undoing the latch lock on his apartment door. He swung the door open and gestured for Luke to come inside.

"Close the door behind you."

Luke did as he was told and stood around awkwardly in the hallway, still holding the flowers in his hand as Carson leaned against the wall across from him, arms folded.

"Well?" Carson pressed pointedly.

Luke trained his eyes on the floor. "Look, Cars, I got out of control today, and I'm sorry."

"That's it?" asked Carson after a moment of waiting for him to say more. "That's your whole apology?"

"Well, what else do you want me to say?"

"Sorry for being the widest gaping twat in London," for starters," suggested Carson. "You could also try "I'm sorry for trying to force you into criminal activity you weren't comfortable with, and for acting like a complete asshole on the ride home by thinking I have any say in who you speak to on your own phone."

Luke sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'm sorry for all of that."

"And for almost destroying my phone."

"Ok, I know, I shouldn't have grabbed your phone," sighed Luke. "Really, Cars, I don't know how else to say it. I'm sorry for today, ok?" He finally made eye contact with him and Carson couldn't help but to start caving even more at the way his eyes were clouded over in sadness. The fucker actually looks like he means it. He's absolutely horrible at apologizing with words, but fuck me, he actually is sorry.

He let the silence sit for a moment before he finally crossed over to Luke and took the flowers out of his hand. "Not exactly the most eloquent apology I've ever received, but I guess I could consider forgiving you," he said as he locked eyes with Luke.

"I don't apologize much."

"Yeah, I'd noticed that," muttered Carson.

"I found blue flowers, though," Luke pointed out, giving Carson a hopeful look as he watched him put the flowers in a glass of water.

"I noticed that, too," said Carson in a gentler tone. He felt Luke come up behind him and cautiously place his arms around his waist.

"So can we just put today behind us, then?" he asked as he placed his lips on the nape of Carson's neck and kissed the skin. Carson felt most, though not all, of his remaining anger start to melt as he turned around and looked him in the eye.

"I guess we can try," he conceded, as he pulled Luke into a deep, passionate kiss.

For a while, it seemed as though things with Luke really were taking a turn for the better. Sort of. They seemed to have settled into a bizarre hybrid of the wild, sexy rollercoaster ride of the beginning of their relationship and the gentler, more tender version of it that generally existed only after all the drugs had worn off and it was just the two of them side by side in one of their beds, usually Luke's, tracing circles into each other's skin with their fingertips and whispering deep thoughts to each other in the dark. It was those moments that Carson lived for and craved the most, although he had a hard time admitting it to himself. He did love their wild moments for the sheer joy of being able to freely behave like himself with no judgement, but those gentler times, even as few and far between as they were, gave him a sense of intimacy and safety that he thrived on.

They didn't come around nearly often enough for his liking. For the most part, their life together was a whirlwind, a blurred haze of sex and pills and dancing at clubs until dawn every weekend. He didn't mind that so much. Hell, as long as he didn't let it ruin his school performance too badly and it distracted him from thinking about Kurt (or Luke's endless harassing of Kurt via Facebook, which he was sure was doing nothing but royally pissing his twin off), he fucking loved it.

What he didn't love so much was when Luke would disappear on him, sometimes for a day or so at a time, with no warning whatsoever, something he'd been doing more and more of lately. Carson never asked him what the deal was, because he didn't want to know. Not really. All he cared about was that Luke not being around meant no distraction for him, and that was very bad indeed.

"Let's go out," he said one Friday night as he emerged from the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. Luke was still sprawled naked on top of the sheets, where he'd flopped from exhaustion after Carson had finished with him. It was the first time they'd seen each other in days because Luke had been mysteriously absent for almost the entire week, and Carson could barely contain his horniness.

"I don't think I've got the energy," said Luke as he tapped away at his phone, and Carson tried not to think about the fact that he was probably doing something to annoy Kurt at the moment. "You pretty much wore me out."

Carson rolled his eyes. "Yeah, no, you aren't gonna give me any excuses, you asshole," he insisted firmly. "I haven't seen you in days, my homework is finished, I'm fucking bored, and I want to go out and shake my ass in front of people who aren't allowed to touch it."

Luke groaned.

"Except for you. You're allowed to touch it," Carson added saucily. "In front of them."

That seemed to perk Luke up immensely, and Carson managed to have the both of them dressed to kill and out the door within less than an hour. Kurt would be proud of me.

Ok, no. Don't think like that. Christ.

They ended up at a club across the city, and Carson wasted no time in popping a pill before dragging Luke out onto the dance floor. He felt himself loosen up wonderfully as the drug started to seep in and take effect, and he demonstrated his euphoria by grinding up on Luke filthily, his tongue darting out to lick the other man's ear as he locked eyes with random strangers, all of whom were taking the scene in jealously.

Fuck yeah. Look all you fucking want, but don't you even think about touching. He felt Luke's hands grab him roughly around the waist and spin him around so that his back was up against his chest, his hands travelling lower to rub up and down Carson's thighs without putting any pressure on where he really wanted it.

"Work your hips," Luke whispered into his ear as he nipped the lobe of it with his teeth, and Carson shivered as he did as he was told. Soon enough he was completely under the spell of the drug, aware of nothing but warm hands on his skin, a tingling sensation throughout his body, and the eyes of a thousand strangers on him as he gave them a taste of what they couldn't have. He barely noticed when Luke disappeared and came back with more pills, nor did he ask what they were before he eagerly jammed them down his throat and kept right on partying.

It was wonderful, the blissful elation he felt overtaking every one of his senses as the real world melted away from his grasp and took every worry and care he had with it. Everything was bright, brighter than it should be, but so very beautiful as colors blended together in front of his eyes.

"I FEEL LIKE A UNICORN!" he yelled out in glee, grabbing what he thought was Luke's hand. It was someone's hand, anyway. He honestly wasn't even sure anymore where Luke was. All he knew was he wanted a drink, and that maybe he shouldn't be drinking at the moment, but damn it, it was his life and he was only going to live once. He was getting a fucking drink. He stumbled over to the bar and grabbed the nearest glass he could wrap his fingers around, downing the contents in one gulp. He managed to do the same to another glass before the people at the bar started shielding their precious drinks from him.

"Fuck yeaaaah," he slurred as he tried to throw his hands up and ended up hitting someone in the face. "Sorreeee," he giggled. "Luke… Lukey, where are you?" He squinted his eyes around the club looking for Luke.

"Right here, babe," he heard Luke's voice say from behind him. "God, you're a mess. Did you drink?"

"Mmm-hmmmm," Carson crooned, grabbing his hand and spinning his arm around. "Aren't I adorable?"

"Insanely," slurred Luke, pressing his lips to Carson's and kissing him roughly as the strobe lights flashed around them and the beat of the music thumped through Carson's veins.

"Fuck," he heard Luke curse, and the warmth of his body suddenly went away as Luke disappeared into the crowd. Carson squinted, trying to see where he had gone, all while the thumping of the music intensified inside of him. A rushing sound filled his ears as the thumping grew faster, more intense, and Carson had just enough awareness to realize it was his heartbeat he was feeling, and not the music.

"Ugh, I feel…. Fucking feel like shit," he said out loud to anyone who would listen, though he wasn't sure if anyone had heard him. "Luke?" he called out as he swiveled his head in every direction trying to find his boyfriend. "Luke!" He tried to take a step forward and stumbled over, crumbling to the floor in a heap as he tried desperately to set himself back upright. "Luke," he murmured, trying to scream it out but only managing to come out with what was barely above a whisper. "Luke, I…"

The thumping of his heart was the last thing he was aware of before he slipped into unconsciousness.

"Carson?"

Carson's eyes fluttered open slowly as he gradually awakened, his head pounding in a way that made the voice calling his name sound like an echo from far away.

"Carson, can you hear me?" the voice asked, and Carson opened his eyes a little more until he could make out the shape of a person standing over him, looking at him with concern. The person slowly came more into focus until he could see that it was a dark haired woman he'd never seen before, clad in what looked like green pajamas.

"The fuck are you?" he grumbled, the words slurring together as he struggled to speak clearly.

"Carson, I'm Dr. Martin, and you're in the hospital," the woman explained gently. "Do you remember what happened?"

"I…" Carson began, then stopped. Did he remember what happened? He had to think for a moment, which was a more painful experience than he bargained for, considering his splitting headache. "I don't know… I was looking for Luke and I felt like shit."

Dr. Martin nodded. "Do you remember taking pills before that?"

Memories suddenly began to come to the front of Carson's brain. "I took some stuff, and then I took some other stuff, and then I had a drink, I think."

"Ok. Carson, you took high dosages of some very potent drugs," said the doctor patiently. "We had to pump your stomach…." She started explaining exactly what he'd taken and how much he'd fucked himself over, but Carson wasn't really listening. He was busy looking around the room, really taking in for the first time that it was a cold, sterile hospital room. More importantly, he realized that, aside from another patient in a second bed across the room, no one else was in there except for himself and the doctor.

"Where's Luke?" he interrupted her in mid-speech.

"I'm sorry, Carson, who is Luke?" asked Dr. Martin.

"My boyfriend," he murmured as he took another look around, as though Luke would magically appear if he looked hard enough. "I…. he was with me at the club, didn't he bring me here?"

Dr. Martin checked her chart. "It looks like you were just brought in by ambulance, honey. No one was with you. Do you want us to try calling Luke?"

Carson allowed her words to sink in. Luke hadn't even been the one to bring him to the hospital? "How long have I been here?" he asked.

"Around twelve hours," said the doctor, checking her watch.

"That fucker," Carson muttered angrily, clenching his hands into fists and upsetting an IV he hadn't realized he was hooked up to by the wrist, which stung.

"Do you want us to try calling him for you, hon?" the doctor asked again.

"No," snapped Carson. His head hurt, his stomach hurt, he was nauseous and felt like he'd been hit by a truck, and he was fucking alone. Luke hadn't even noticed he was missing and come to wait for him to wake up. He'd fucking disappeared and left him to rot.

Fuck you, Luke, you complete fucking ASSHOLE.

Dr. Martin pursed her lips. "Ok, well, you'll be good to go home by tonight, but in cases like this, we generally don't like to let you leave by yourself. Do you have someone who can come pick you up and take you home?"

"Do I need someone?" asked Carson angrily. "I can take care of myself."

"It's preferred," answered the doctor. "If you don't have someone, the hospital will probably opt to keep you here another day for observation, just to be safe."

Fuck. "Goddammit," Carson groaned, feeling more nauseous by the second. "I can't stay here another day, I have shit to do at home." Like cutting the crotch out of all Luke's pants for leaving me alone in the fucking hospital.

"Well…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, safety and shit," muttered Carson. "I'll find someone. Can I get something for this fucking nausea? I feel like I'm going to pull an Exorcist in about five seconds."

Dr. Martin nodded and disappeared out of the room, looking relieved at being granted a reprieve from the three minutes she'd spent with Carson and his attitude. Carson was left alone with his dark thoughts about Luke and the dilemma of who the hell he was going to call to pick him up, let alone who would even want to pick him up.

He looked around until he found his phone resting on the plastic table beside his bed. He grabbed it and immediately started dialing Luke's number. The least he could do was to help Carson get the fuck out of there. He pressed the phone angrily to his ear and waited. And waited. And waited. He heard nothing but endless ringing and the sound of his blood rushing in his ears as he grew ever more pissed off.

Ok. Fuck him. I don't need him. I have plenty of other people I can try, Carson lied to himself, even though he knew damn well he didn't. He bit his lip and considered calling Kurt, but immediately dismissed that idea as being the worst thing he could possibly do. He and his brother might be on the outs, but he did still hold out at least a tiny bit of hope that they'd somehow magically fix everything one day. If Kurt caught wind of what Carson had gotten himself into this time, he might move away and change his name and never speak to him again for as long as he lived. Not that Carson would really blame him.

He forced himself to ignore the burning desire he suddenly felt to have Kurt crawl into the bed with him, put his arms around him, and tell him everything would be ok. It wasn't going to happen, so he would have to think of something else.

Ok, who else do I know who would do me a favor? Sebastian? No, he'd just tell Kurt and then I'd be in the same mess there. Ok, um… fuck, I don't know. Hayley? Professor Norris? That weird old woman who lives down the hall from me with her eight cats?

He absentmindedly scrolled down his contacts, systematically eliminating almost everyone he saw. He briefly considered trying to call April, but then he happened upon another idea. Granted, it wasn't his favorite idea, and the thought of asking this person for any sort of favor almost made him more physically sick than he already was, but at least he could be reasonably sure that he didn't give one fuck what they thought of him being in this situation. He just needed one thing from them, and really, it was the least they could fucking do for him.

Before he could change his mind, his thumb was hitting the button and he was pressing the phone to his ear once more. Unlike with the call to Luke, this one was picked up on the third ring.

"Carson?" came a very confused voice from the other end of the line.

"Hi, Mom."

Without a doubt, one of the most awkward moments of Carson's entire life would definitely be the moment that his hospital room door opened and in walked his mother, looking like he'd rarely ever seen her, in more ways than one. For starters, she was wearing actual clothes and had at least brushed her hair, very much unlike the usual pajamas and rats nest she'd been sporting ever since the twins' father had left. Even more surprising was the look on her face. She actually looked worried. Worried about Carson.

Well color me shocked, there's something I thought I'd never see.

The two of them stared at each other for a few moments in silence. Carson had no idea what to say to her, and he assumed she was probably dealing with the same issue. After all, it was a very unusual situation. He'd literally never asked her for anything before, and god knew she'd never done such a magnanimous favor for him before, either.

"Carson," she finally breathed out, and crossed the room to his bed, where she leaned down cautiously and placed her arms around him in a hug, which he did not return. He just let her finish while he awkwardly stared at the wall and waited for it to end.

"Hi, Mom," he said, once she had let go of him.

Sheryl frowned down at him. "Carson, what the hell were you thinking?"

Carson rolled his eyed. "Ok, seriously, spare me the lecture, ok? It doesn't matter what I was thinking, the point is, I managed to make a slight fuck up, and now I'm here. And the only reason you're here is because they won't let me leave without someone to take me home, so if you really want to play Loving Mommy, here's your chance. Get me out of here."

Sheryl sighed as Dr. Martin entered the room with her ever-present clipboard. "Hello, I'm Sheryl Phillips. Carson's mother," his mother said, holding her hand out to Dr. Martin, who shook it. "When can my son come home?"

"Hello," said the doctor warmly. "Well, we just ran a few more tests, and everything looks good, so he can go home any time. He just has to fill out some paperwork and then you can take him."

"Great, give me the papers," said Carson.

"You fill those out at the front desk," said the doctor with a laugh. "I'll leave you to get dressed, and someone will bring a wheelchair for you in a few moments."

"I don't need a wheelchair," said Carson firmly. "I can walk."

"It's for liability reasons," said Dr. Martin with a sigh. "I'll send someone up." She practically hurried out of the room, leaving Carson alone with Sheryl once again.

"My clothes are in that plastic bag on the chair over there," he said, pointing. His mother handed them to him and he quickly took them into the bathroom, getting changed in record time. "Ok, let's blow this place like a cheap hooker," he announced as he exited, fully dressed. Sheryl winced at the expression, but, to her credit, said nothing about it. Nor did she say anything when he told the orderly pushing his wheelchair out of the hospital that he had a nice ass. He was almost disappointed when he said to the cab driver, "I think I met your son last night. You look just like him! I mean, I think, 'cause I really only remember what the top of his head looked like," and she still said nothing.

He gave up and settled in for one of the most awkward taxi rides he had ever taken in his life. Between his mother trying to be subtle about staring at him, Carson himself trying to pretend he didn't know he was being stared at, and of course, the fact that the cab driver looked like he would happily kill them if it weren't for the in-car cameras, it was a relief when the car finally pulled up to Carson's building and he could let himself out. He patted the pocket of his pants to make sure his house key was still there, and almost didn't notice that his mother had also gotten out of the cab until he realized the car was driving away and she was right behind him.

"Uuuuh," he said, suddenly uncomfortable. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you get home alright," she answered.

Carson looked at her in confusion. "Yeah, you did that. I'm home," he said, waving his arms at the building in front of them. "Ruby slippers have been clicked. Mission accomplished. You may now leave."

Sheryl sighed. "Carson, I've gotten you this far, I might as well finish it all the way through."

Carson rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Jesus, I ask for one thing in my entire life and it comes with strings. What are the chances of you dropping this until I give in?"

"I can't make you do anything, Carson, but I think you should know that I'm genuinely worried about you," his mother said quietly. "I've been worried ever since you left home. I don't expect you to believe me, I'm just telling you how it is. I'd like to see your place and keep you company for a little bit after what you've just been through, but I understand if you won't let me. I'll leave if you really want me to."

Carson surprised himself by actually considering her words. Of course, his natural instinct was to tell her to get lost, but on the other hand…. She was legitimately doing him a favor. The first one she'd ever done for him in his whole life. And, well. He really didn't want to be alone at the moment, especially since the whole experience had only served to remind him how much he actually missed Kurt.

"Fine," he said, his words directed at some random point in the sky rather than to his mother. "You can come in for a bit, I guess. Whatever."

He pretended he hadn't seen the tiny smile that quickly crept across his mother's face as he led her through the lobby of the building and into the elevator that led to his floor.

"This is a nice place," she remarked. "If you don't mind my asking, how are you affording this?"

"I have my ways, mother," he muttered under his breath. They got off the elevator and headed toward the door of his flat, Sheryl clearly impressed by the look of the hallway.

"Here we are," Carson announced as he turned the key in the lock and swung the door open. "Home sweet home." He let them in and proceeded to kick his shoes off and head into the kitchen to start boiling some water for tea. Not that he was particularly in the mood for tea, but Dr. Martin had said it would be best to start his stomach off with that and toast for at least the first few hours at home. "Have a seat," he told Sheryl, indicating the chairs around the kitchen table. "Damn, I feel like a housewife from a 50s sitcom. Can I offer you some tea or whatever, since I'm making it anyway?"

"Tea would be nice," his mother agreed with a nod. They didn't say anything else to each other until Carson had finally poured the tea into a plain white mug for himself, and a pint glass that said "Drink 'Til She's Cute" for his mother.

"Thank you," said Sheryl, making no comment about the phrase written across her glass. They took sips at the same time and stared at each other in uncomfortable silence.

"Well, this is sufficiently awkward," said Carson at last, desperate to break the ice before he drove himself insane.

"It's going to be, I guess," said Sheryl thoughtfully. "We don't have the best history, you and I."

"No shit."

"May I ask why you called me and not Kurt?" asked his mother, a note of caution in her voice, and Carson busied himself taking a giant gulp of tea.

"I didn't want him to see me like that," he replied after a moment, surprising himself with the honesty that came out of his mouth. He had been planning to just give her a smart-ass answer, but something about the situation was preventing him. Maybe it was that he was so tired, or maybe it was the fact that his aloof relationship with his mother made him not give a damn if she knew the honest truth. Maybe it was both, but either way, his own frankness was frightening. "He's put up with a lot from me already," he added quietly.

"I supposed that's true," Sheryl agreed between sips of tea. "But it's not like you haven't put up with your fair share from him too, you know."

"Excuse me?"

"I love Kurt, but he can be a total pain in the ass," his mother said. "Don't think I don't know that."

Carson felt a snort escape from him before he could stop it. "Trust me, I know."

And so it was, right then and there, that the first ever Carson and Sheryl Phillips mother-son bonding moment came to pass. Carson almost couldn't believe it. He was actually sitting in his own kitchen, with his mom, drinking tea and mutually having a laugh at Kurt's expense. Am I in the fucking Twilight Zone?

He was curious as to how long such a thing could be kept up before one of them ended up cracking, but unfortunately, fate didn't have it in the cards for him to find out in that moment in time, because in the very next second, his apartment door was being opened and Luke was rushing inside, red and out of breath.

"Cars, Jesus, there you are. I thought you'd be at my flat," he said in between pants of breath. "I have to talk to you about something. It's important."

Carson just blinked up at him without rising from the table. "Luke, this is my mother," he said, indicating Sheryl with one hand while calmly holding his mug of tea with the other.

"Your… mother," Luke said slowly, a strange expression flitting across his face, and Carson knew he must have been thinking about all the stories he'd been told about Carson's less than idyllic childhood.

"Mmm-hmm," Carson confirmed. "Tell me, Luke, why do you think my mother is sitting here in my kitchen drinking tea out of a pint glass? Wait, don't bother answering that, because I'm gonna tell you. She's here because she was the only person I could get to come and collect me from the hospital, where I was out cold for the better part of a day because I got out of control at the club on Friday and YOU LEFT ME THERE ALONE," he finished, his voice rising to wall shattering levels as he neared the end of his diatribe. "I could have died, and guess who wasn't there with me."

Luke's face was full of shock and guilt as he took in Carson's words. "Cars, I know, I fucked up, and I'm sorry, but I saw some… well, I had to leave the club in a hurry, and you were too high and drunk to get you to follow me, so I thought I'd catch up to you later."

"Yeah, sorry my fucking coma put the brakes on that plan," muttered Carson bitterly.

Sheryl gingerly set her glass down and rose from her seat. "I'm just gonna… I'm gonna walk around the building for a bit, Carson," she said awkwardly, slowly shuffling toward the door. Neither man paid her any mind; Carson was entirely too busy trying to suppress the rage he felt bubbling back up to the surface.

"I'm sorry, Cars," Luke tried again, as meek as Carson had ever seen him, but Carson was too pissed to accept it. "Are you ok?"

"That's all you're gonna say? That you're super sorry? I think you owe me a little more than sorry," he snapped angrily. "Like an explanation for why you're constantly disappearing without telling me where you're going, or why you're constantly trying to make me miss class no matter how important I tell you it is to me, or what was so important that you had to leave your incapacitated boyfriend to fend for himself in a crowded club. I never would have fucking left you if you were as drugged up as I was," he added. "Never."

"I had to!" Luke yelled back. "There's a lot of things you don't understand, but it's the reason I was looking for you today. I have… Look, I've got some people on my ass, and…"

"Oh, let me guess, you pissed off the wrong people and now your ass is on the line," muttered Carson. "What, were they at the club too?"

"Yes," said Luke insistently. "It was better for me to leave than for them to spot me, and with you not able to hold your own on top of it. You were safer without me."

Carson rolled his eyes. "Of all the lame bullshit…"

"Look, I haven't got a lot of time, so I'm going to cut right to the chase," Luke interrupted him. "I've got to leave London for a while. And I… I want you to come with me."

Carson stared at him incredulously. "You have got to be fucking kidding me!" he screeched. "How long are we talking about?"

Luke shrugged. "I don't know. A few months, maybe. A year?"

"You expect me to just drop everything and run off with you to god knows where?" asked Carson, more pissed off now than he'd been even in the hospital. "I can't do that, Luke."

"Why the fuck not?" asked Luke.

"I have a LIFE, LUKE," yelled Carson angrily. "I have school! I have… I have family," he added hesitantly as Kurt's face flicked through his mind. "I can't just quit school to gallivant around the world on a whim, no matter how much I want to be with you."

"So you do want to be with me," said Luke quietly.

Carson locked eyes with him, some of his anger momentarily fading away. "I'd like to, but there are some things I just can't do," he said, the nausea steadily returning to his stomach. "I have plans for my future, and I'm not going to drop them."

Luke looked pained as he seemed to take in what Carson was saying to him. "Cars, I don't know when I'll be able to come back," he said, his voice containing the slightest note of sadness.

Carson was silent for a moment as he let that sink in. "Then I don't know if we can continue this," he said at last, refusing to look Luke in the eye as he did.

"Y…you're breaking up with me," said Luke. It was a statement, not a question.

"I guess I am," murmured Carson, choking back a wave of tears that threatened to erupt from his eyes at the words.

There was silence throughout the flat for several long moments, the tension in the kitchen so thick Carson felt like he could have cut it with a knife. It was almost a shock when Luke finally moved at last, gingerly moving toward him and leaning down to place his lips over Carson's, kissing him deeply for a long time, as though it would be the last time. Which, Carson reminded himself as he tried not to start sobbing, it kind of would be.

Everything after that was a hazy blur. The only thing he remembered clearly was getting up from his seat and throwing his arms around Luke in a tight embrace before he watched him walk out of the flat and close the door behind him. The only thing that kept him from falling apart afterwards was the fact that Sheryl cautiously walked back into the flat a moment later, looking as though she weren't sure she should be there anymore.

"I need to be alone," Carson managed to croak out in a semi-normal sounding voice, the best he could muster under the circumstances. "Please."

Sheryl nodded and crossed over to him, patting him on the shoulder gently and daring to lean down to kiss the top of his hair. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"

Carson shook his head vigorously.

His mother looked at him for a moment before patting him once more and turning to leave, for once in his life respecting his wishes.

"Mom?" he said suddenly as he watched her turn the knob to the apartment door.

"Yeah?"

"….Thank you," he sputtered out, the words sounding strange coming from his own mouth directed to her. She seemed to think the same, but she recovered quicker than he did and nodded with a tiny smile.

"You're welcome."

He waited until several minutes after the door had shut behind her, when he was relatively sure she was in the elevator and safely out of earshot, before he slumped down on his sofa, wrapped his arms around a throw pillow, and sobbed into it for the rest of the day.

The next month was one of the most miserable ones of Carson's life. He hadn't realized how much he would miss Luke until he was gone. He couldn't even call or text him because his phone number had been disconnected. The only connection he still had to him was his Facebook, and even that was of little comfort, since Luke hadn't logged into it since days before he'd left London. He spent a lot of his time turning the breakup over in his mind, convincing himself that he could have tried harder to make it work if he'd really wanted to. He could have switched schools. He could have taken some time off and resumed later. He could have found a way to be with Luke, but he'd been so angry at the time that he hadn't even entertained the notion.

He was probably the best thing to happen to me in a very long time, and I fucking blew it. I blew it.

And then, every once in a while, usually late at night when his loneliness was at its most unbearable and his tears had run dry, his mind switched from obsessing over Luke to obsessing over Kurt. Which, Carson reasoned to himself, it had never really stopped doing. Luke had been a bandage that covered the Kurt-sized wound on Carson's heart, but it had never actually gone away. Whenever his mind wandered back to their chance reunion in the convenience store bathroom all that time ago, he remembered well the way his heart had filled with hope for a short moment before he'd remembered Sebastian and had shut it down. He had the upsetting feeling that Kurt was always going to be his one true love, no matter how hard he tried to push that feeling away and pretend that he could make it work with another person. Clearly, he couldn't.

The problem was, what the hell was he supposed to do about it? Did he want Kurt back? Well, ideally, yes. The more he searched his soul, the more he realized that yes, what he really wanted most was to be back in his twin's arms where he'd always been safe and loved, no matter what, no strings attached. And that he had been a fucking idiot to ever throw that away. Luke had allowed him the freedom to act like himself, but Kurt had always loved him unconditionally in spite of his worst traits.

He won't want me now. There's no way.

But deep down in the depths of his heart, where he hid his innermost secrets, he sometimes let himself entertain the possibility that maybe Kurt could want him back. Maybe not now, or even soon, but… maybe someday. And if Carson could only get that chance granted to him, he swore to himself he would do everything in his power not to fuck it up. He even rehearsed in his mind what he would say, what he would do to prove to Kurt that he was worthy of him. He'd be nice. He'd be attentive. He would cut down on the drugs and the smoking and whatever else Kurt wanted, he promised in his imaginary speech, if only Kurt would just give him one tiny chance.

And gradually, so gradually that he didn't notice it at first, that imaginary idea, that complete fantasy that maybe he could earn Kurt back…. That fantasy didn't seem so unreachable. Maybe he could do it. Maybe he could at least manage to convince Kurt to let him plead his case.

It'll take work. It'll take a lot of fucking work, because I've fucked up so badly with him.

But I have to try. I'll never know until I try.

I have nothing left to lose.

I give up. I love him. I love him and I need to do whatever it takes to get him back.