"Mmm," Kurt moaned, biting at his bottom lip in an attempt to keep as quiet as possible. The last thing he needed was his parents overhearing him. Or worse, Carson. It had been embarrassing enough walking in on his brother jerking off that one time. He had a feeling that the embarrassment of being the one who was walked in on would be ten times as excruciating.

Of course, that wasn't to say that he hadn't enjoyed accidentally walking in on Carson. Quite the contrary, in fact. Although neither of them had mentioned the incident since the night it happened, Carson seemed to be popping up in quite a few of Kurt's late night fantasies lately. Kurt couldn't help himself. Those sexy little moans Carson had been letting out had burned themselves into his memory, along with the way his twin has moaned his name afterwards when he realized that Kurt had just watched him come.

I'm such a pervert, he would think to himself shamefully every night, as he closed his eyes and worked himself with his hand, his mind flooded with images of Carson doing the same. People have been put into prison for less than this. He wished he had a name for what had come over him lately, because his strange, sexual obsession with Carson was slowly bleeding more and more often into his everyday life instead of staying neatly in his own mind and bedroom at night, where it belonged. He found himself constantly checking out some part of Carson's body when he was sure he wouldn't be caught doing it, whether it was his ass, his strong legs, his toned arms, or his perfectly chiseled jawline. He didn't even care that it always sounded like he was composing the world's cheesiest romance novel in his mind.

Neither did he care that he was intentionally being a tease around his twin, squeezing into tighter and tighter pants and doing his best to sway his hips as appealingly as possible whenever Carson was around. He'd even accidentally let Carson see him naked one morning after he got out of the shower. Well... more like "accidentally," since the bathroom door had been open a tiny bit and Carson had forgotten to knock before entering, but Kurt hadn't exactly reached around frantically for a towel immediately. Carson had blushed adorably and stood there with his mouth hanging open like a startled fish before running out back down the hall to his bedroom like his ass was on fire.

And that kind of reaction was part of the reason why, Kurt supposed, he kept up the teasing. Carson was terrible at disguising the fact that he was definitely enjoying it, and that made Kurt feel powerful. Just the very thought that he had that kind of effect on a man, even if it was his own brother, was intoxicating. He felt sexy and desirable, and he absolutely loved it.

The other part was that he honestly did find Carson attractive, even though it made him feel guilty and dirty. He just thanked his lucky stars that he was better at hiding his reactions than Carson was.

"Ungh," he groaned, gently gliding his fist up and down his length. He could feel his face flushing as his tempo increased, his fingers brushing against the sensitive head of his dick every couple of strokes. He kept his eyes closed as he writhed against his sheets, his head full of nothing but Carson. Carson's face, his eyes, his adorable smile that showed off all his teeth, which was a rare occurrence. Carson's body on top of his. Carson moving inside of him.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned, an intense heat building up deep in his belly as he worked himself faster, bucking up into his own fist. It would be over soon, he knew, and he kind of wanted to slow down, but he didn't have nearly enough willpower in him for that. He came with a whimper over his hand as he imagined Carson leaning over him, kissing him underneath his jaw before whispering "Mine" in his ear.

"Fucking hell," he breathed out, leaning back into his pillows and trying to regain his normal breathing pace as he basked in the afterglow of his orgasm. That had been an intense one. He'd never come quite so hard before, but, then again, he'd never added such a possessive element to Fantasy Carson before, either.

"Mine?" Jesus. I have issues, he thought, carefully reaching over into his night stand for the package of wet wipes he kept there for easy clean up. He took care of his mess, tossing the wipes into the garbage can and pulling his pants back up before snuggling under the covers. He tried to fall asleep, but unfortunately, sleep didn't seem to be coming any time soon. Usually, when he couldn't sleep, he would tiptoe into Carson's room and beg to sleep with him, but he felt like he'd been doing that a lot lately.

Probably because you have been, you twit, he admonished himself. It was true, he had been making it more of a habit lately to sneak into Carson's room in the middle of the night. He slept better with his twin's warm body pressed to his own. He had no idea why. Maybe it was some kind of subconscious thing from when they were in the womb together, or whatever. Or maybe it was because Kurt secretly liked it when Carson got morning wood and he was there to feel it.

Yeah, it was probably that second thing.

Oh, fuck it, he sighed, getting up out of bed and tiptoeing down the hallway toward Carson's room. He gently turned the knob and stuck his head inside, his gaze fixing on Carson in the bed across the room. His twin was sleeping peacefully, his mouth hanging open slightly and his covers halfway off his body. His shirt was hiked up, revealing the creamy expanse of pale skin that was his lower back. He was a mess, but he looked perfect to Kurt.

Kurt decided not to wake him to ask permission to share the bed. He knew Carson wouldn't mind. There had never been a night where he had turned Kurt down, and Kurt couldn't imagine that tonight would be any different. He carefully slid into the bed beside Carson, which wasn't as easy a task as it should have been, considering that Carson only had a single bed compared to Kurt's double. He positioned himself in the little spoon position with his back pressed firmly to Carson's chest, sighing with contentment as he snuggled down against the pillows.

"Hi, Kurtsie," Carson mumbled sleepily, and Kurt felt his face flush as Carson wrapped an arm around his chest. "Can't sleep?"

"Nope," answered Kurt in a whisper. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not," said Carson, pulling him closer and kissing him softly on the ear. "But if I'm hard in the morning, please keep all your jokes about Little Carson to your damn self."

Kurt snorted. "Deal," he promised. "Good night."

"Night," murmured Carson, his breath warm against the skin of Kurt's neck, which, ironically, caused him to shiver a little. He closed his eyes and wondered, for the millionth time, what would happen if he ever told Carson that the secret admirer flower he'd received on Valentine's Day had come from him.

Good thing he'll never know, Kurt thought with a yawn as he felt himself slipping into a deep, comfortable sleep. Honestly, he wasn't even sure himself why the hell he had ever sent Carson that flower. It wasn't like he liked him or anything. Not in that way. Of course not.

Nope.

The following weekend found the twins attending a bonfire in the woods several blocks from their house, along with Seth, Santana, and half a dozen people that Kurt only vaguely knew and who he figured were probably Santana's friends. He didn't really care who they were, because he was much too busy drinking until he couldn't remember his own name. He needed to. It had been a hell of a week at school, and getting absolutely plastered sounded like heaven.

"Kuuuur," Carson said, slurring his words as he plopped down beside Kurt on the log he was sitting on and rested his chin on his shoulder. He wasn't exactly a beacon of sobriety at the moment, either. "Kurt... Kurt, guess what, Kurt?"

"What?" asked Kurt, taking a swig from his beer bottle and directing a sloppy smile Carson's way.

"Ok... wow, ok... you know what?" said Carson, the mixed smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol on his breath attacking Kurt's nostrils. Not that he minded, really. He just hoped that his twin would stay far away from the fire, lest he burn down the whole forest with everybody inside.

"What?" he asked again.

"You... you... you totally have a fantastic ass," Carson answered, giggling gleefully as he bit his bottom lip and grinned at Kurt. Kurt felt his face grow hot, although he wasn't sure if it was from what Carson said, or from the alcohol. Or if it was the fire he was currently sitting about three feet away from.

"I do, hmm?" Kurt replied lazily, ignoring the drum-like thumping of his heart. He didn't know why he was even surprised at Carson's words. He already knew he had a great ass, and that Carson thought so. Lord knew he had caught him staring at it often enough. "Thanks, babe."

"You are so welcome," Carson crooned, kissing the side of Kurt's ear sloppily. "And... and... hehe... Santana's tits are awesome toooo."

"What?" asked Kurt, temporarily snapped straight out of his drunken haze.

"Yeah, like... they're so round and stuff. How... how does she get them so round? And they bounce. It's fucking weird. Like... does... does she put pudding in there?"

"Ok, what the fuck are you even talking about?" Kurt asked, doing his best to push down the surge of jealousy he felt at hearing Carson wax so eloquently about lady parts.

"I wonder what they feel like," Carson went on, resting his head on Kurt's chest now and making a grabby hands gesture, as though he were touching Santana's invisible boobs. "I bet they feel like balloons."

"Yeah, balloons full of silicone," Kurt mumbled. "Those things are faker than my tolerance for Rachel during glee club meetings. And since when do you care about tits, anyway?"

"I dunnoooo," Carson answered in a sing song voice. "I don't like them as much as your ass, though."

"Well, Phillips, if you're that curious about it, I'm not opposed to letting you cop a feel," spoke up Santana, staggering over to them with a beer waving around in her hand. "They may be fake as fuck, but they're awesome. Totally worth every last bit of money my parents paid for 'em."

"…... Really?" asked Carson, sounding interested. Kurt frowned, stumbling up from his log and pulling Carson up with him.

"No, thank you, Satan," he said, giving Santana his best bitchy smile. "Carson, you... you're drunk, let's go home." It was a little early for home, especially for a Saturday night, but he suddenly didn't want to be in those woods for another second. More importantly, he didn't want Carson there any longer, either.

"Boooobs, though," Carson whined, struggling against the grip Kurt had on his arm. "Boobs, Kurt. Boobs."

"Yeah, you are definitely drunk off your ass," Kurt mumbled, struggling to keep both himself and Carson upright while everything around him seemed to be spinning.

"No I'm not," Carson protested.

"Yes, you are," Kurt insisted. "You're trashed."

"You're... you're sexy," Carson retorted, causing Kurt to flush again. "M'not drunk."

"Ok, well, let's just go home anyway, hmm?" said Kurt, pulling Carson away from Santana and over to the path that would lead them out of the woods and onto the street.

"You are no fun," Carson said in a sulky voice, even though he allowed Kurt to lead him. "You suck all the fun out... out of everything. You suck."

"I know," agreed Kurt, nodding.

"But your ass, thouuuugh," Carson said, his face relaxing into a smile. Kurt felt the brief touch of a firm hand on the back of his jeans, and it took him a second to piece together what had just happened with his alcohol muddled brain.

"Did... did you just cop a feel?" he asked Carson, who grinned and nodded.

"Uh-huh," he replied. "Feels firm. You have a firm ass. You... congratulations."

Jesus, Kurt thought. It seemed to take forever to get home, especially because they were both completely wasted and it was the drunk leading the drunk, but at long last, they reached their front door. Kurt said a silent prayer of thanks that their parents' car wasn't in the driveway. He didn't want to know what his father's reaction would be if he saw them both stumble drunkenly into the house. He had a feeling that it would somehow be blamed on Carson, who would be too drunk to defend himself if Neal decided to get violent.

"I wanna fly," Carson murmured, his face buried in Kurt's neck and his arms wrapped firmly around his waist. "I can fly, you know. I think. I mean, I've never tried, but, you know. I could."

"Sure you can," Kurt agreed. It took him three tries to turn his key correctly in the lock, but finally he got the door open and dragged Carson inside. "Let's... let's go upstairs. Don't wanna be down here when Mom and Dad get back."

"No," said Carson, nodding in agreement. "Dad... Dad'll be a dick, and I'll... I'll tell him, I'll say, "Hey Dad, fuck you, because I'm almost a... a fucking adult, and you can't tell me what to doooo."

Kurt smiled, stumbling up the stairs with Carson following closely behind. He turned the corner of the hallway into his own bedroom and collapsed down on the bed, only having the energy to kick his shoes off first. He looked up, noticing Carson teetering awkwardly in the doorway, as though he were afraid to come in.

"You can come join me," he assured him, reaching his arms out in invitation. "Just... take off those god awful sneakers first, will you?"

"I like my sneakers," Carson protested, even as he obediently kicked them off. He plopped down on the bed beside Kurt, immediately wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in his neck. "You smell so nice," he murmured.

"I smell like booze and smoke right now, actually," said Kurt.

"Still nice."

"You would think that," said Kurt, his heart skipping a beat at the suddenly gentle way Carson was stroking one hand down the length of his arm. That shouldn't feel as good as it feels. It shouldn't. It shouldn't, it shouldn't...

"You smell like Kurt, and that's always nice," replied Carson, pressing a kiss to Kurt's neck, just underneath his jaw. Kurt shivered, trying desperately to ignore the flurry of butterflies he could feel deep in his stomach. He wondered what would happen if he turned his head a little, just a little, and kissed Carson. How would Carson react? Would he be cool with it? Would he kiss back? Or, more likely, would he completely freak out and stumble back to his own room as fast as his drunk legs could carry him?

Probably that last thing, Kurt decided, taking a deep breath and trying to get a hold of himself. Pull yourself together, Kurt. I don't care how much he clearly enjoys staring at and, apparently, touching your body. I don't care how many times you've felt his dick pressing somewhere into your back or your ass and wanted it to go further. He's your brother and you're both drunk. Just lay here and enjoy what you have. Go to sleep.

A slight snoring sound jarred him out of his thoughts, and he realized that Carson had fallen asleep already, his face still resting against Kurt's neck so that every time he breathed out, a puff of hot air hit Kurt's skin and made his heart pound even faster.

Shit, he thought with a sigh, closing his eyes and following his twin into sleep.

"Tell me why I agreed to do this again," Kurt said irritably as he and Seth stood outside Felicity's Tattoo and Piercing Parlor. They had been standing there for almost an hour while Seth waffled back and forth between ready and nervous to go inside. Frankly, Kurt was beginning to lose his patience.

"Because you're my best friend and I didn't want to get my freaking tongue pierced by myself," Seth reminded him.

"Yes, I'm your best friend. I'm your best friend who's about to kick you in the cock if you don't make a decision soon," grumbled Kurt. At home, in the living room, where Carson could get a free show. Priorities. "Seriously, are you getting the piercing or not? I could be putting in a shit ton of dance practice right now, you know."

"I'm sorry," said Seth apologetically, frowning uncomfortably. "I just... I want it, but... a needle in my tongue. Fuck."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Well, no shit, honey. What do you expect them to do? Use a butter knife?"

Seth glared at him. "You're the worst. You know what I mean."

"Ok, ok," Kurt said with a sigh. "Look, it's raining and I'm freezing my ass off out here, so why don't we at least step inside the damn place? Then I'll be generous and allow you twenty more minutes of annoying indecisiveness before I abandon your ass and go home. Deal?"

Seth nodded. "Ok. Ok, let's... let's go inside." He pushed the door open, looking expectantly at Kurt.

"Are you kidding me? You seriously want me to go in first?" asked Kurt, hiding a smile despite his tone. Seth could be adorable sometimes, even if he had always been a bit on the wimpy side when it came to stuff like... well... this.

"Yes," said Seth. Kurt rolled his eyes and marched right inside, throwing a glance behind him to make sure Seth was following.

"Can I help you?" asked the girl sitting behind the counter. She had about a million piercings adorning her eyebrows, nose, and lips, and Kurt was slightly taken aback as he stared at them, fascinated. He wondered for a second how he would look with a lip piercing, but quickly decided that he would look awful. And that it would clash horribly with some of his seasonal looks.

"Yes," he replied, plastering a smile on his face. "My friend here wants to get metal jammed in his tongue."

"I think," Seth added quickly, glaring at Kurt. "I'm still not sure."

"Ah," said the girl, looking at him and nodding. "I understand. Would you like to watch a piercing being done first? It might calm your nerves a bit."

"We'd love to," Kurt answered for him when Seth didn't reply right away. The girl smiled and stepped out from behind her desk.

"Follow me," she said, and the boys obeyed, following her behind a large, black, velvet curtain that separated the lobby from what was clearly the piercing station. Another girl was sitting in a chair, while an older woman appeared to be sterilizing a table full of piercing equipment.

"Welcome to Felicity's," the woman said, not even turning to look at them. "I'm Felicity. Come to watch?"

"Yeah," Kurt replied cheerfully. "My friend wants a tongue piercing, but he's a complete chicken shit."

"Fuck you," Seth muttered.

"Tongues aren't really that big a deal," Felicity replied casually. "You'll see." She finished sterilizing the equipment and approached the girl. "Open," she ordered, and the girl complied, sticking her tongue out for inspection. Felicity gave it a brief once over, and then clamped a set of forceps on it. Kurt watched, fascinated, as Felicity expertly and quickly pierced the girl's tongue as though it were the easiest thing in the world. The girl didn't even flinch.

"That doesn't even look all that bad," he whispered to Seth.

"I'm not doing it," Seth said, shaking his head vigorously. "I'm not... I can't. I'm sorry we wasted so much time. Let's go."

"What do you mean you're not doing it?" asked Kurt. "After all that? Seriously?"

"Look at the needle, Kurt!" Seth retorted in a panicked voice. "Nope."

"Yeah, but look at the finished product," said Kurt. He had no idea what the hell had come over him, but he found himself suddenly imagining how he would look with a tongue piercing. Why? He had no fucking clue.

I'd look like a badass, he thought to himself, watching the girl admire her new piercing in a handheld mirror. Nobody would think I'm quite such a perfect angel anymore. And think of when I finally start giving blowjobs someday. Guys will love a piercing.

"Fine, then you get a piercing," said Seth sarcastically.

"You know what?" said Kurt, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. "I think I will."

"You... you what?" exclaimed Seth.

"I'm getting my tongue pierced, Seth," replied Kurt cheerfully.

"Are you eighteen, honey?" asked Felicity. Kurt rolled his eyes, reaching into his wallet and producing the fake identification he carried around for emergencies such as these.

"I think you'll find I'm plenty old enough to pierce anything I want," he said casually. Felicity looked warily from the ID to Kurt and back again, but shrugged and handed it back to him.

"Ok, kid. Hop into the chair," she said, turning back to her equipment table.

Forty-five minutes later, Kurt walked out of the parlor with slightly jittery nerves, a swollen tongue, and a panicky feeling of What the fuck did I just do?! settling into his stomach.

"What are you going to tell your parents?" asked Seth.

"Nothing. It's none of their business," Kurt replied, even though he knew he wasn't going to be able to keep it a secret for very long. Especially not with the way his tongue was swelling like mad. "And even if they find out, who cares? I'm my own person. Maybe I'll even tell them myself."

"But-"

"God, Seth, just shut up, ok?" Kurt snapped. "It kinda hurts to talk right now."

"Is it supposed to already be so swollen like that?" asked Seth.

"I don't know, I probably just have a sensitive tongue, can you just drop it?" snapped Kurt.

"Jesus, ok."

They walked in silence until they reached Seth's side street, where his friend gave him one last pitying look before heading for his own house. Kurt continued on alone, hoping that nobody would be home yet when he got there.

"Thank fuck," he said out loud when he let himself inside and discovered that the house was completely empty. His father was still at work, Carson must have stayed after school for that new writing club he was trying to start, and fuck only knew where his mother was. He rushed straight into the upstairs bathroom, sticking his tongue out in the mirror and admiring his new accessory.

It looks sexy, he assured himself. It really did, kind of. Even if, at the moment, it was surrounded by a tongue that looked like a bloated puffer fish. He was going to have a hell of a time hiding that. He wondered what Carson would say when he saw it. He decided that he didn't want to know just yet. He would wait until his tongue had stopped looking like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man, and then he would show Carson. It would look normal then.

Good plan, he thought to himself with a smile just as he heard the front door opened and close.

"I'm home!" announced Carson's voice. "Not that anyone usually cares. Kurt? You around?"

"Doing my homework!" replied Kurt, trying to sound as normal as he could with such a painful, tender tongue as he quickly sneaked into his bedroom. "Maths!"

"Good luck with that shit," Carson replied, and Kurt could hear him rustling around in the kitchen. Good. He's occupied. I should be able to hide it from him for a while.

Luckily for Kurt, Carson spent the entire afternoon in his room, his mother didn't come looking for him when she got back from wherever she had been, and his father got home entirely too late for it to matter. A cleverly scheduled morning in which he pretended to oversleep insured that he wouldn't have to risk his parents noticing anything then, either.

"What's with you?" asked Carson as they walked to school that morning. "Not that I really care, mind you, but you didn't come in to shake me awake this morning."

"I was just tired," Kurt answered quickly, pretending to be checking the contents of his bag so that he could avoid looking at Carson and the risk of having his tongue discovered. "Overslept a bit. Nothing much."

"Hmmm," replied Carson, as though he didn't really believe him.

Thankfully, he managed to avoid anyone noticing anything unusual for the rest of the school day. He practically sprinted home after his last class, desperate to find something he could eat. He hadn't eaten a thing since the previous day due to his swollen tongue, and he was starving. He let out an undignified shout of joy when he discovered a tub of ice cream in the freezer.

Perfect, he thought happily. He didn't even bother to get a bowl. He grabbed a spoon and stuck it right in the tub, carrying it out into the living room. He stopped dead in his tracks when he discovered that his mother was there, sitting on the couch and thumbing through a magazine.

"Hey, Kurt," she said cheerfully (for her) and giving him a smile. "How was your day?"

"Um... ok," Kurt murmured through a mouthful of ice cream.

"Don't fill up on that stuff," she said, getting up and patting him on the shoulder on her way into the kitchen. "I'm making dinner tonight."

"You are?" Kurt asked, at the same time as Carson breezed through the kitchen door and asked the same question.

"Since when?" Carson added. "Usually I forget that you even know how to cook."

"And that's the kind of smart assed attitude that discourages me from cooking for you in the first place," their mother retorted.

"I was just making an observation," replied Carson casually, shrugging his shoulders. "There's no need to get snippy."

"I'm snippy? Have you looked in a mirror lately?" Sheryl replied. "They could make batteries with your attitude, it's so full of acid."

"Gee, Mother, I wonder where I get it from," muttered Carson.

"I'm sure I don't know," their mother replied, rooting around in the cupboard under the sink for a metal pot. "Your father, probably. Ever since you were a kid, you've been a little asshole. Not like your brother, that's for sure. He's my son. You're your father's son."

Carson rolled his eyes, but there was a very brief, very small look of hurt on his face at their mother's words. He hid it quickly, and an untrained eye would never even have noticed it was there at all. But Kurt saw it. He saw it, and he hated it, because seeing Carson look vulnerable and lost, even for a split second, made his blood boil with anger.

Which was why he couldn't really stop himself in time from doing what he did next.

"Well, Mom, you might want to make something like soup," he said casually, leaning up against the fridge with his arms crossed. "Definitely nothing solid. I can't handle it, you know, because I'm recovering from a tongue piercing."

There was a stunned silence in the kitchen for a moment. Sheryl looked shocked, while Carson looked curious, and Kurt could just tell he was wondering if Kurt was serious or joking. Nobody said a word until their mother finally found her voice.

"You're what?" she exclaimed.

"I got my tongue pierced yesterday," Kurt repeated as casually as if he were discussing the rain. "Downtown. It swelled up like a bitch at first, and it's starting to go down now, but I'm not going to be able to eat solids for at least a few weeks, so I just thought you should know."

"You got your TONGUE PIERCED?" Sheryl yelled, her eyes practically bugging out of her head when Kurt stuck his tongue out to show her. "What on earth would possess you to get your damn tongue pierced? Why the hell would you do that?"

"What's going on in here?" asked their father, coming into the kitchen and looking confused. Well, you're home uncharacteristically early, Kurt could practically see Carson thinking across the room.

"Your son got his tongue pierced without permission," Sheryl snapped.

"He WHAT?" Neal bellowed. "Carson, I swear to god!" He started marching over to Carson, his face a storm cloud, until he was stopped in his tracks by Kurt's voice.

"No, Dad. Actually, it was me. I got the piercing. Right here," he said, sticking his tongue out and waving to punctuate his point.

Neal froze for a moment, looking between the twins with a torn look on his face, as though he didn't quite know how to handle the situation. Which, Kurt figured, he probably didn't. He was so used to screaming at Carson over every little thing that it was probably blowing his mind that he had no cause for it right now.

For a minute, he just stood there, looking confused. Kurt patiently waited for him to turn around and start yelling at him. He was kind of looking forward to it, actually. He's never actually been in serious trouble before, and the prospect was strangely exciting.

Apparently, the situation was just too much for his father to handle, because he turned right back to Carson and continued taking his anger out on him.

"And where were you when this happened?" he snapped, getting up in Carson's face while Carson glared at him.

"What the hell do you mean, where was I?" Carson snapped back. "I didn't even know he had done it until about five minutes ago, and besides, even if I did know, what the hell was I supposed to do about it? I'm not his father, Neal. Where were you when it happened?"

Kurt honestly thought that his father was going to slap Carson after that remark. His hand even went up in the air in preparation, but Carson was too quick for him. He ducked under their father's arm and grabbed his bag, patting Kurt on the shoulder on his way out of the kitchen.

"Kurt, the piercing looks fucking awesome," he said before disappearing into the living room and up the stairs.

"You see?" Neal muttered. "He's influencing him."

"No, Dad, he's not!" Kurt snapped, surprised at his own tone of voice. He'd never spoken to either parent like this before. "This was entirely my decision. It's my body, and my choice. Carson had nothing to do with it, so if you want to punish someone, punish me."

"Fine," Neal growled. "You're grounded. Go to your room."

"Fine with me," muttered Kurt, grabbing his ice cream tub and storming out of the kitchen. He bounced up the stairs, peeking into Carson's room instead of going to his own. His twin was flopped stomach down onto his bed, absentmindedly playing with his phone.

"Big decision you made, there," he said, not turning around to look at Kurt.

"Yeah," Kurt agreed.

"Did it hurt?"

"Not at the time, but it really hurts now," Kurt answered honestly.

"How long until it heals?"

"Three weeks or so, I guess."

"It's kind of sexy," said Carson, and Kurt could see a small smile spreading across his face.

"Yeah?" asked Kurt. "You think so?"

"I think so," answered Carson. "Granted, I have no fucking idea what the hell was going through your brain, but yes. It's sexy."

Good to know, Kurt thought, grinning as he realized he'd just opened up a world of new teasing possibilities. So, SO good to know.