The rest of the morning didn't get any better from there, although Carson tried to tell himself that he was just being stupid. When he looked at it logically, there was really no reason at all to feel so jealous of Kurt and Sebastian flirting with each other. After all, Kurt was naturally a flirty person, especially within the past year or so. He was just doing what he always did. And as for Sebastian, well... how the hell was Sebastian supposed to even know that he and Kurt were a thing? Whatever that "thing" may have been? For all Sebastian knew, Kurt was available.

Maybe, but it still sucks big, hairy balls.

"So, boys," said Sebastian as they walked down the hall toward the gymnasium for the annual first day of school debriefing, where the headmaster generally told them what the school rules were, as if anyone gave a shit. "Aside from both of you becoming devastatingly handsome, especially Kurt, how has life been treating you since last we spoke?"

Carson wondered if he wanted an honest answer to that one. Oh, well, you know. Dad is still a jackass, Mom still lets him be one, pretty much everybody shits on me every time I turn around, and I'm in a confusing, sexual relationship with my twin brother, whose ass you are shamelessly eyeballing right now. That ass is mine. I own that ass...I think.

"Same old shit," he settled on saying as he shrugged his shoulders. "Honestly, not much has changed since we were kids, except now we're taller."

"And sexier. Don't forget sexier," Sebastian said with a wink in Kurt's direction. Carson managed to refrain from scowling as Kurt blushed, his cheeks turning the distinct shade of pink they always turned when he was complimented on his looks.

"So, I take it that you and Kurt both swing for Le Team Gay," Santana said cheerfully, and Carson finally remembered he had been gripping her arm as she yanked it free from his grasp.

Sebastian chuckled. "You could say that," he replied, his eyes twinkling as he smiled at Santana. "Let's just say that most of the guys in Paris between the ages of sixteen and thirty are familiar with my name." He glanced over at Kurt and smiled wider, flashing a set of perfectly straight, white teeth. "I'll have to formulate a plan to gain the same respect and notoriety here in Bristol."

"I think that's nice," said Santana, her voice dripping in fake enthusiasm. "Isn't that nice, Carson?" she said, flashing him a smile as Kurt's blushed increased and he ran a hand through his hair.

"Wonderful," Carson murmured as they finally reached the gymnasium doors. "Come on, let's get this stupid assembly over with." He looped his arm through Kurt's and led him toward their usual seats in the back, where Seth was already sitting and looking confused as Malerie filled him in on what Carson could only assume was a new writing project.

"And then this tornado comes, and it picks up the girl's house and spirits her away to a magical land," she was saying as Carson and Kurt took their seats to Seth's left. "And there's a pair of silver shoes with really cool powers, and-"

"That's The Wizard of Oz, Malerie," said Carson with a sigh. "How was your summer?"

"It was ok," said Malerie with a sigh, and Carson gripped Kurt's arm a little bit tighter as Sebastian and Santana caught up to them and filled out the rest of their group's bench. "You caught me. I copied The Wizard of Oz because I still have no writing skills of my own."

"Yes, well, if you want to work on that, you should help me overhaul the Writers' Club," said Carson. "This is going to be the year I drum up interest in writing in these sad little automatons that attend this school, I swear to God."

"Ok," she agreed happily.

"Speaking of clubs, is there a chorus or a show choir or something at this school?" asked Sebastian.

"There is!" replied Kurt eagerly, leaning over Carson to smile at the other boy. "I'm in it. You should join!"

"I hate to brag, but at my school in France, I was basically one of the top stars of our show choir," said Sebastian.

"Seriously, you should audition," said Kurt. "We need fresh blood, anyway."

"I definitely will," said Sebastian.

"Yay," Carson mumbled under his breath. Kurt must have heard, because he gave Carson a small smile and patted him gently on the shoulder, as if to reassure him.

Thankfully, the headmaster entered then and began his usual start-of-year speech, which was basically the same as it had been the year before.

No sex in the lavatories, no smoking on school grounds, no vandalism, no fighting, no dress code violations, Carson rattled off in his head as he waited impatiently for the assembly to end. We get it, and we'll do our best to break each and every rule, we promise.

Apparently, the world was, as usual, against Carson, because when he received his schedule after the assembly, it turned out that he had maths as his first class,

"Son of a bitch," he groaned as he shoved his schedule into his jacket pocket. "Why can't I have an easy morning class?"

"If it makes you feel any better, we're both in that class," said Kurt.

"Slightly," replied Carson.

"We don't have to go," Kurt mused, folding his schedule up neatly and tucking it into one of the many small, zipped compartments in his messenger bag.

"We don't?" said Carson, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Nope," replied Kurt, giving Carson a mischievous grin. "We could skip it. I have a few things in my bag that we could get a lot more use out of than our math books, if you get my meaning." He reached into the same compartment he had slipped his schedule into and took out a small, foil package, which he wiggled between his fingers as he showed it to Carson with a grin.

"Fuck," Carson breathed as he realized what Kurt meant, looking around to make sure no one was watching. Thankfully, Sebastian had gone in search of his first class, and the rest of their friends were nowhere in sight.

"Yes, that's the idea," Kurt said, hiding the condom in his palm and grabbing Carson by the arm. "Come on," he said with a grin, pulling Carson down the hallway, away from the direction of their maths classroom. They ran up a flight of stairs and down several more hallways until they had reached a significantly less densely populated area of the school, which housed several barely used classrooms and a storage closet. Carson assumed Kurt would drag him into a classroom, but instead he found himself being shoved into the storage closet as Kurt kicked the door closed behind them and pinned him up against a wall.

"Kurt, what the- mmmph." Carson didn't finish his sentence, because his mouth had suddenly been taken over by a pair of soft lips, and he gasped into the kiss when he felt teeth nipping at his bottom lip. He shivered despite the warmth of the hands that had started exploring underneath his hoodie as his own hand began traveling down Kurt's back to rest on his ass.

"Got all hot and bothered from your shameless flirting with Mr. I'm So French, have you?" he whispered, only half teasing as he gave Kurt a small swat on the ass.

"Oh, shut up," Kurt replied indignantly as he placed kisses down Carson's jawline. "So I thought Sebastian grew up nice. Big deal. He did. I'm not blind or dead, you know."

"Yeah," said Carson, throwing his head back so that Kurt had easier access to the sensitive spot beneath his jaw.

"Besides," Kurt added, "I do believe it's you I'm currently having an illicit encounter with in a closet, yes?"

"We could get caught," Carson whispered, letting a small giggle escape as Kurt's fingers lightly brushed against his ribs, tickling him a little.

"By who?" asked Kurt. "Hardly anyone ever uses this wing. The classrooms are used maybe once or twice a week at the most, and I happen to know for certain that this particular closet hasn't been in regular use since about 1995."

"How in the hell do you even know all of that?" asked Carson, amazed.

"I do my research," replied Kurt, crashing their lips back together. The smallness of the closet they were in meant that their bodies were pressed very close, and Carson felt himself growing very hot under his clothes. Not to mention very hard as Kurt's thigh brushed up against the front of his jeans.

"Isn't this a lot more fun than maths?" Kurt asked cheekily, parting from the kiss and moving his lips over to Carson's neck as he palmed him over his pants.

"Shut up," groaned Carson. He turned them around, pinning Kurt up against the wall and knocking down several sheets of old copy paper in the process. His hands fumbled with the button at the top of Kurt's pants, and he said a silent prayer of thanks that his twin had worn a pair that wasn't overrun with complicated clasps and zippers. He managed to get them pulled down in record time as Kurt's skilled fingers worked him out of his jeans and underwear, and it suddenly hit Carson that Kurt wasn't wearing any.

"Don't you ever wear underwear?" he asked, nipping behind Kurt's ear with his teeth.

"Not... ah... not generally," Kurt answered, gasping at the contact with Carson's lips. "The lines would show through the pants, and-" He interrupted his own sentence with a squeal as Carson grabbed him around the waist and bent him over a stack of boxes in the corner of the closet. He draped himself over Kurt's back, palming the globes of his ass with his hands as he whispered in his ear.

"Be a good boy and stay there," he said, and Kurt shivered and nodded.

"Lube's in my bag," he replied. "The inside zip compartment." Carson nodded, reaching into Kurt's bag and finding the lube tucked beside a package of wet wipes and a handful of condoms. He grabbed a foil package along with the lube and wasted no time drizzling some over his fingers, quickly working one inside Kurt, who let out a stifled moan.

"Fuuuuuuck," Kurt groaned as Carson worked his way up to three fingers, making sure to press once or twice against the spot he had learned would reduce Kurt to a quivering mess. "Just get in me already, would you?"

"Eager boy," Carson said with a grin. He pulled his fingers out and ripped open the condom package with his teeth, sliding the latex over himself and coating it with a layer of lube. "Ready?" he asked as he got himself into position behind Kurt, who looked back at him with an indignant expression.

"No, I'm over here begging for it because I want you to have tea and read the paper with me," he snapped sarcastically. "Just get on with... oh!" he moaned as Carson slowly slid himself inside. He didn't bother to be slow or gentle after that, having recognized the urgency in Kurt's tone that generally meant "Fuck me hard and fast." Which was precisely what Carson did. Honestly, he loved it like this. The desperation as he thrust in and out, the delicious little sounds coming out of Kurt's mouth as he rocked his hips back to meet Carson's rhythm. They were so in tune with each other, it actually kind of mystified Carson a little. It was almost as though they had been born to do this, and Carson might have actually thought that, except for the fact that it seemed pretty stupid to believe that.

"Faster," moaned Kurt, and Carson obeyed, rocking into him at an increased pace as he felt an orgasm fast approaching. He planted his hands on either side of Kurt's ass and pulled him forward, thrusting into him several more times before he bit his lip to stifle the roar that almost escaped as he came so hard he almost blacked out. He managed to work one hand in front of Kurt, wrapping his fist around his twin's erection and stroking him until he felt Kurt pulse in his hand and come, his muscles contracting around Carson where he was still buried inside of him.

Carson didn't move for a moment. All he could do was stay draped over Kurt's back, his chest heaving with the effort to draw in breath as Kurt panted beneath him, both of them too winded and exhausted to do much of anything. Carson finally managed to pull out and take care of the condom after a while, reaching into Kurt's bag for the wet wipes and handing some to Kurt.

"In answer your question earlier, yes," said Carson as he cleaned himself up and fixed his pants. "This was way more fun than sitting in maths."

"I told you," Kurt grinned, sorting out his clothes and reaching into his bag for a pocket mirror, which he help up to his face as he began to fix his hair. "Although, we shouldn't make this a habit. I need a decent grade in that class."

"Well, it was your idea," Carson said. He cracked the closet door open and carefully peered out to make sure that there weren't any errant teachers or students who would see them emerging and put two and two together. "Coast is clear," he announced, and opened the door all the way. "I'll see you at lunch then, shall I?"

"Maybe we can break that school rule about sex in the bathrooms," said Kurt with a wink. "Or, at least, blowjobs in the bathrooms."

"Jesus."

Aside from seeing Kurt at lunch (during which they did, indeed, break the school rule against sex in the bathrooms), the rest of the day was very stressful indeed for Carson. He was so worn out by the end of the day that he didn't even bother to try hanging out in the journalism classroom to see if he could get any takers for the Writers' Club while Kurt attended the year's first glee club practice. He didn't even go to Grandma's. He went straight home after his last class, bogged down by the thought of all the homework that had been assigned to him already.

For fuck's sake, it's only the first day, he thought as he kicked a rock down the street. Would it really kill them to give us a bit of a breather before they go shoving assignments down our throats? He wondered if Sebastian had showed up to audition for the glee club that afternoon. He'd told Carson he was going to when they were attending their world history class together after lunch. Carson wondered if it made him strange to hope that maybe the other boy had forgotten. Not that he was jealous, or anything, but... well, he didn't exactly relish the idea of Sebastian and Kurt singing together in any capacity. Not if they were going to stare at each other's asses the whole time.

Ugh, just come off it, Carson, he chastised himself as he walked up the Phillips' drive. So what if they flirt a bit? We've been over this, they have every right to flirt. He reached into his pocket for his house key, but was surprised to see that the door swung open as soon as he touched it. It was only then that he realized that his mother's car was in the driveway. He'd been so caught up in his thoughts before he hadn't even noticed.

Probably drunk off her ass, I'm sure, he thought, walking into the kitchen and setting his bag on a chair while he looked for something to eat.

"Is that you, Kurt?" he heard her voice call out, and sure enough, she sounded as though she'd spent the last three hours knee deep in booze.

"No, Mother, it's the Prime Minister," he mumbled, opening the refrigerator and taking out a can of soda as Sheryl stumbled into the kitchen, glaring at him.

"Oh, it's you," she said. "I thought it was your brother."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Carson mumbled. He grabbed his bag and made to go upstairs, but his mother's hand gripping his shoulder stopped him.

"I found a condom in your trash bin today," she slurred, and Carson's heart skipped several beats as he shrugged himself away from her.

"So what?" he snapped defensively. He honestly hadn't known that his mother even bothered to go into his room during the day. Thank fuck I always take the precaution to hide my weed. He usually was more careful with the condoms that he and Kurt used, but apparently he had forgotten to give his trash bin a once over before he left for school that day.

"So I don't approve of you fucking in my house," replied Sheryl. "I don't care what you do anywhere else, but you'll not bring your trashy whores in here, do you understand me?"

"I assure you, mum, I've never once fucked a trashy whore in this house," Carson replied brightly, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.

"And if you get someone pregnant, don't come crying to us," Sheryl added.

"Well, Mother, see, that's the thing about condoms," Carson said patiently. "They're sort of designed to make sure that doesn't happen."

"You see that it doesn't, or you'll end up with a kid you never wanted," said Sheryl, reaching into the fridge and taking out a beer. "Trust me, I know all about that."

"Yes, well," said Carson, rolling his eyes as he started for the stairs. "I promise that you don't even have to worry about that. I know for a fact that it's not going to happen.

"If it hadn't been twins..." he heard her mutter under her breath as he bounded up the stairs and into his room, throwing his bag down on his desk chair. At this point in his life, he was barely even phased by the way his parents blatantly let him know how much he had never been wanted. Especially not now that he had been burned one time too many after daring to hope that they might change their minds one day. It wasn't ever going to happen, and Carson had come to accept this as fact.

Which is why I need to make sure I get into a good university, so that I can move as far away from them as possible in a few years, he reminded himself, dragging his books out of his bag and spreading them out on his floor to start his homework. Even if that does involve slogging through maths.

He worked studiously throughout the afternoon, losing himself in the rigor of schoolwork. He rather liked doing homework most of the time, even if the subjects sometimes bored him. He found comfort in being neat and organized. There was something immensely satisfying about the way a neat notebook page full of evenly spaced, painstakingly handwritten writing looked, and he took pride in making his assignments pretty to look at. He supposed the neatness of his work sort of made up for the fact that he had a bit of a tendency to argue with his teachers, hence the reason why he still made high marks.

At any rate, it distracted him from his life, so that was at least a plus.

"Look at my busy little bee," came Kurt's voice from the doorway, and Carson looked up in surprise, blinking over at his clock, which told him that he had been working for two hours without even noticing the passing time.

"I hate when you call me that," Carson mumbled, even though it wasn't true. He liked Kurt's various names for him, but admitting it seemed like something he just couldn't bring himself to do.

"Oh, you love it. I didn't see you after school today," said Kurt, entering the room and plopping down beside Carson on the floor. "Didn't you stay to do the writing club?"

"Not today," replied Carson. "I was tired."

"Mum's passed out drunk downstairs," said Kurt, leaning his chin on Carson's shoulder. "I passed her on the couch and she still had the beer bottle in her hand. The drinking's getting worse."

"I'm aware," answered Carson stonily. "I met her on my way in." He didn't bother telling Kurt about the condom. He figured it would be pointless to worry him when it wasn't even an issue anyway.

"Oh," said Kurt quietly. They sat in silence for several seconds until Kurt cleared his throat and spoke again. "I ran into Sebastian again this afternoon. He came to audition for glee club."

"That's nice," murmured Carson, keeping his eyes focused on his notebook.

"Yeah, he said that we should come over to his house sometime," Kurt continued. "He has a pool and a screening room and all sorts of cool shit."

"Great," said Carson, trying and failing to sound even a little bit excited at this prospect.

"What's wrong?" asked Kurt, rubbing his fingers up and down Carson's arm. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, Kurt, really," Carson insisted, turning to his twin and giving him a soft kiss on the lips. "Like I said, I'm just tired. I think I'll nap a bit now that I've just about finished my homework."

"Hmm," Kurt murmured, biting his lip and looking at Carson uncertainly. "Well, ok. If you're sure you aren't sick."

"I'm sure," said Carson. "I just kissed you. I wouldn't do that if I thought I was sick."

Kurt snorted. "True," he said, leaning in to kiss Carson back. "Get some sleep, baby. Shall I tuck you in?" he asked cheekily.

"No, I think I can manage," said Carson with an eye roll. "Thank you."

"Any time," said Kurt, getting up and heading for the door. "Pleasant dreams. Do you want to... you know... plan on tonight?"

"Maybe. I don't know. Leave your door cracked?"

"Ok," replied Kurt. Carson gave him a small smile as Kurt gently closed the door behind him, and stood up with a yawn. He quickly put on pajama pants and turned out his light before crawling into bed and cuddling up to his pillow.

Who the hell has a screening room in their house? was his final thought before he drifted off to sleep.

He woke up hours later to a pitch black room, his bedside clock proudly proclaiming it to be almost two in the morning. He yawned and rubbed his eyes with one hand, hugging his pillow closer with the other. I guess this counts out a session with Kurt. He's probably asleep by now. I won't wake him. A dull rumbling sound cut into his thoughts, and he realized that it was coming from his stomach just as he remembered that he hadn't actually eaten anything since lunch at school. He sighed, not really wanting to leave the warmth of his bed, but hunger was winning out.

He made his way quietly downstairs, tip toeing into the kitchen and setting out gathering up ingredients to make a sandwich. He was so lost in thought as he spread jam on a piece of bread that he almost jumped straight out of his skin when he heard the doorknob rattling. He grabbed his butter knife, prepared to do battle with a masked intruder, but it turned out to only be his father, clearly trying his best to sneak inside the house. Between the barely disguised look of panic on Neal's face when he saw Carson standing there, and the fact that the air suddenly smelled a lot like perfume, it didn't take a genius to work out where he had been all night.

"What the hell are you doing up?" asked Neal sharply. "You should be in bed."

"I could say the same to you," replied Carson smoothly, going back to making his sandwich. "Late night at the office?" he asked casually.

"Uh... yeah," Neal replied, looking uncomfortable. "Really late."

"I bet," said Carson brightly. "You look like you've been working very hard." Neal didn't reply as Carson put the cap back on the jam jar and stuck it back in the fridge. "Tell me, Dad," he continued as he broke off a paper napkin from the holder on the counter. "Do you generally come home smelling like women's perfume after working late? It's really a very interesting scent. So different from what Mom wears. What is it, vanilla?"

The look on his father's face could have probably killed him if looks could be lethal, but Carson was completely unfazed. He sat down at the table with his sandwich, calmly taking a bite as Neal continued to glare at him.

"That's none of your concern," his father practically spat.

"I'm sure there are those who would severely beg to differ, Daddy Dear," said Carson coolly as he nibbled his sandwich skillfully into the shape of a star. "Like, say, Mom."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," said Neal, avoiding eye contact with Carson now as he got a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water from the tap.

"Right," replied Carson brightly. "Of course. You drink that water down, now. You look worn out." He finished the last bite of the sandwich and wiped his mouth delicately with the napkin before throwing it in the bin and standing up from the table. "By the way," he added as he made his way back toward the stairs, "You might want to do something about the lipstick stain on the collar of your shirt."

He quickly made his exit then, leaving a very angry and very baffled looking Neal behind as he hurried back to his bedroom. It took him a moment of adjusting his eyes to the darkness to realize that he wasn't alone in the room. There was a lump in his bed. A very long, lean, breathing lump that smelled of strawberry soap.

"I couldn't sleep," said Kurt. "You don't mind if I lay with you, do you?"

"Of course not," replied Carson, climbing into bed beside him and wrapping an arm around him. "You're welcome in my bed any time. Naked or otherwise."

Kurt snorted. "Pervert."

"And proud," said Carson with a smile, placing a kiss to the top of Kurt's forehead. "Let's get some sleep, shall we?"

"Ungh," Carson moaned, trying his best to keep quiet as Kurt worked himself on top of him, riding him with his hands planted firmly on Carson's chest. It was a Saturday night, and alcohol had been freely flowing since about three minutes after the twins had arrived at the Lopez house for their usual weekend party. It had taken about five drinks for Kurt to clumsily grab Carson by the hand and drag him upstairs into the nearest bedroom that didn't already have a couple screwing in it. He'd wasted no time practically throwing Carson onto the bed and yanking his clothes off.

"Ah..." Kurt groaned, working his hips in a circular motion while Carson did his drunken best to hang on to his waist. "Ungh... thrust up... thrust up and fuck me... fuuuck, yes, like that," he panted as Carson obeyed orders, thrusting his hips up into Kurt as hard as he possibly could and keeping at it. His rhythm was a little off because of all the alcohol fogging his brain. Ok, it was definitely off, but it was still pretty damn good, and the sounds Kurt was letting out were shooting straight to his groin. Riding wasn't usually their thing. In fact, if Carson had to choose a favorite position, he's probably pick taking Kurt from behind every time, but damn...he was beginning to think that they should definitely do this more often. The view was fantastic as Kurt steadied himself on his hands above him and arched his back, sweat glistening off his chest and his erection bouncing as he worked himself up and down on Carson's dick.

"Uh... uh... uuuh... fuck, gonna come..." Kurt moaned, moving faster as Carson did his best to match him. Kurt threw his head back and let out a whine low in his throat as he came, coating Carson's chest as his breaths came out in short, little gasps. Carson moaned and followed him, spilling into the condom and biting his lip to keep from screaming. Kurt leaned down and kissed him hungrily, his tongue darting out to taste and devour as Carson wrapped his arms around him, his hands resting on his ass and squeezing slightly, enough for Kurt to moan into the kiss.

"Fuck," Kurt panted out, dismounting and relieving Carson of his condom, which he tied up and threw on the floor before reaching into his pants pocket for a small moist towelette.

"You never come unprepared, do you?" asked Carson, watching Kurt as his twin tore open the packet with his teeth and started cleaning them both off with the wipe.

"There's an orgasm joke in there somewhere, but I'm entirely too drunk to know what it might be," Kurt slurred. "We should get out of here soon."

"We just got here," protested Carson. "I don't wanna go home."

"I meant out of this room," Kurt clarified as he started pulling his clothes back on. "I just realized it's Santana's bedroom."

"Oh, shit," Carson murmured as he reached for his own clothes, his eyes taking in the familiar black and red décor of his friend's bedroom. "Fuck, she'll kill us. You couldn't have dragged me into a guest bedroom?"

"You can't hold me responsible for decisions I make when I'm drunk and horny," replied Kurt, struggling with the buttons on his shirt. "I wasn't concentrating on whose room it was, I was a little busy thinking about tearing your clothes off."

"Yes, I can," muttered Carson. They dressed quickly and Carson grabbed Kurt by the hand as he yanked the door open and prayed that no one would see them coming out of the room with their rumpled hair and messy clothes. Unfortunately, luck was not on their side.

"Did you seriously just fuck in my bedroom?" asked Santana, her eyes narrowed at them as she sipped thoughtfully from a red cup and leaned up against the wall across from the door. "I didn't think you had the balls. Wanky."

"Shows how much you know," muttered Kurt. "I... I have balls, ok? Big ones."

"Kurt, stop it. You're drunk," said Carson, his cheeks turning hot at the way Kurt said the word.

"I have balls!" Kurt whined, leaning up against Carson.

"I know," replied Carson as Santana snorted into her drink.

"Relax, Phillips," she said, raising an eyebrow at them as the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly. "I kind of figured you were both brazen fuckers when I saw you rubbing Carson's junk under the desk in maths the other day."

"Jesus, Santana, will you shut up?" Carson hissed. "Anyone could hear you."

"Hey, guys, what's going o..." said a voice behind Carson, and he turned around only to inwardly groan as he saw Sebastian standing there, looking like the cat who got the cream as he took in Carson's disheveled appearance. Carson thanked his lucky stars that Kurt looked significantly better put together than he did, even if his signature hair swoosh was slightly out of place. "Ok, spill," Sebastian said, giving them an evil smile. "What just happened here and why wasn't I invited?"

"Oh, nothing," replied Santana before Carson could open his mouth to say anything. "I just gave Carson the blowjob of his life, hence the reason why he looks like his world was just rocked to the core. Not that it's any of your business."

"Daaamn," Sebastian said with a low whistle.

"Eew," Kurt said quietly.

"Well, if either of you ever want a spectacular blowjob that only a man knows how to give, you make sure to call me," said Sebastian with a wink. "Kurt? Can I interest you?"

"No, thanks," mumbled Kurt, his cheeks turning bright red as Carson resisted the urge to scowl. Sebastian shrugged and winked at them as he turned back around, leaving the three of them alone in the hallway once again to stare at each other awkwardly.

"I do believe you owe me a favor," Santana said cheerfully, taking a long swig from her drink.

"Fuck," the twins murmured at the same time.

"Oh, calm your tits," she said, rolling her eyes. "I just saved you from certain embarrassment. How about a "Thank you, Aunty Tana" instead of bitching, hmm?"

"I will not call you Aunty Tana," said Kurt, looping his arm through Carson's and pulling him close. "And Carson won't, either."

"Aaaaw, Kurt's jealous," Santana cooed.

"I am not," retorted Kurt.

"Yes, you are," she said, grinning. "By the way, I'll be sending you the dry cleaning bill for my sheets. Sweet twincest might be hot, but that doesn't mean I want to sleep in a bed full of your spunk."

The next few weeks were far busier than Carson would have liked, and he and Kurt barely had time to have any of what Santana had dubbed "Twincest Wanky Times," since they both were being pulled in so many directions with their studies and after-school activities. They were so busy and exhausted that it was rare they even had a moment to just hang out together, let alone do anything intimate, and to tell the truth, Carson was getting just a little bit antsy. He never even knew he would be capable of being so sexually frustrated, but he supposed that's what developing a healthy sexual appetite did to a person. He didn't think it was even just that, though. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he thought that it probably had a lot to do with the fact that he found himself getting increasingly more jealous of the interaction between Kurt and Sebastian, which seemed to be constantly flirtatious ever since Sebastian had sort of integrated himself into their little group. The more Carson tried to tell himself that he had no right to be jealous, the more jealous he became, and the more he wondered just what the hell it was that he and Kurt had, exactly.

Surely he wasn't actually falling in love with Kurt, right? That couldn't be it. That would just be stupid. No, it was strictly physical, and nothing more.

Fuck buddies. We're just fuck buddies, and that's all.

For some reason, though, he just couldn't bring himself to fully believe that. No matter how much he wanted to.

He was sitting and stewing about this one Saturday afternoon as he, Santana, and Sebastian sat around a table at a local café, sipping on coffee and just enjoying a rare moment of hanging out doing nothing. Well, Kurt and Sebastian were drinking coffee. Santana had some kind of mocha whip thing, and Carson himself was sipping on a soda that he had snuck a bit of vodka into from a flask he'd carried inside his bag. The alcohol was needed, because if he had to listen to one more comment from Sebastian about how snugly Kurt's jeans fit him today, he was going to lose it.

"Hey, Kurt, I hate to interrupt the verbal rimming you and prep boy are giving each other right now, but who the hell is that?" asked Santana, cutting into Carson's thoughts and waving her mocha cup in the direction of the person she was talking about. It was a boy in a fancy uniform from the boys' prep school across town, wearing enough gel in his hair to create a turtle shell, and he was sitting demurely at a table with several other boys in identical uniforms as he stared unabashedly at their table.

Or, more precisely, at Kurt.

"Yeah, who's that?" asked Carson, narrowing his eyes at the guy. "And why does it look like he's undressing Kurt with his eyes?"

"Can you blame him?" asked Sebastian.

"I can," grumbled Carson. "I just... I just don't take kindly to guys ogling my baby brother, that's all."

"Baby brother, hmm?" said Sebastian with a chuckle as Kurt blushed right to the roots of his hair. "Protective big brother mode is super hot on you, Carson. Super hot."

"I've seen that guy around town sometimes," spoke up Kurt quickly with a shrug as he sipped at his coffee. "He always smiles at me and shit, but he's not really my type. He's a little short."

"I'm guessing guys your exact height are more your speed?" asked Sebastian, and Kurt quickly stared down into his coffee cup.

Carson was about to give him a sarcastic reply, but he immediately forgot all about it as the staring guy got up from his table and started walking over to theirs, flanked on either side by two of his identically dressed friends. He prepared himself to have to tell the guy to get lost, but he simply sat in shocked silence instead as the guy opened his mouth and began to sing, with the other boys providing acapella backup.

"Let's have some fun, this beat is sick, I wanna take a ride on your disco stick..."

Carson was pretty sure his jaw hit the table as he gaped at the spectacle unfolding before his eyes. Kurt looked similarly speechless, not to mention embarrassed beyond belief as Hair Gel Guy danced around him, while Santana looked horrified and Sebastian looked amused. The rest of the customers in the café were displaying a range of reactions, although most of them were somewhat a mix between Sebastian and Santana.

What the actual fuck is this assclown doing? Carson thought as he hoped and prayed for the song to end soon. Does he think that he's gonna get into Kurt's pants this way, or...

Mercifully, the boys finally stopped singing, and the lead guy looked hopefully at Kurt with a raise of his triangular eyebrows while Carson and pretty much everybody else in the building waited to see what would happen next.

"I know you don't know me," the guy spoke up, "But I've seen you around town and, well... I think you're really hot. And I was wondering if maybe you'd want to go out with me?"

Carson hid his smile as Kurt gave the guy his very best "Bitch, please" look and locked eyes with him.

"So, you thought you'd ask me out with... whatever the fuck that embarrassment was instead of just asking me like a normal person?" asked Kurt. The guy's face fell so fast that it was almost comical, and Carson snorted into his cup.

"So... that's a no, then?" asked the guy.

"That's a hell no," said Kurt sweetly, flashing the guy a smile before taking a long sip from his coffee cup.

"Well... um... how about you?" the guy asked, smiling widely and turning his attention to Sebastian, who smiled right back at him and shook his head.

"Yeaaaah... no..." said Sebastian, his smile never wavering. "No. Thanks, though."

There was an awkward silence for several minutes while everybody stared at each other and Carson downed the rest of his vodka spiked soda before the guy and his friends filed out of the café, their looks ranging from irritated to disappointed.

"Ok, what the fucking hell fuck was that shit?" asked Santana, breaking the silence at last. "Seriously, what the hell did I just witness? Did we all get alien probed?"

"Hell if I know," replied Carson. "But if he had continued much longer I was going to have to punch him in the dick, and it wasn't going to be pretty."

They stuck around only long enough to pay their check and leave, because Kurt had apparently decided it was the perfect time to start brushing his fingers up against the front of Carson's jeans under the table, and Carson was going to lose his shit if they didn't get out of there as soon as possible. Thankfully, both Santana and Sebastian had places to be, so they didn't ask too many questions when Carson practically dragged Kurt out of the café, although Santana did give them a raised eyebrow.

The walk home was torture, and it felt like hours before they finally reached their house and burst through the door, Kurt taking off his jacket and practically throwing himself at Carson the moment the door was closed behind them.

"Kurt, Jesus, what if Mom and Dad are..." Carson began, but he was interrupted by Kurt attacking his lips with his own as his twin backed himself up against the kitchen counters and pulled Carson to him.

"They're not," Kurt gasped in between kisses. "No cars in the drive," he added, his fingers fumbling with the zipper of Carson's jeans as Carson pulled up Kurt's long sleeved T-shirt to gain access to his twin's chest. The thought of asking "But what if they come home?" left his mind as he leaned down to suck kisses greedily into the pale, creamy skin, his lips and tongue roaming everywhere he could reach as he wished he could taste everything at once. His pants were becoming uncomfortably tight as he felt his dick swelling inside, and by the looks of Kurt's pants, which left little to the imagination, his twin was in the same situation.

"Pocket," Kurt uttered breathily as he ran his fingers through Carson's hair. "My pocket... lube and condom..."

"Always fucking prepared," Carson murmured, sucking one of Kurt's nipples into his mouth as he fumbled with his pockets. How the hell his twin managed to hide the travel sized bottle of lube in such tight pants was beyond him, but apparently he had. Carson fished out the bottle and a wrapped condom, tearing open one and uncapping the other as he shrugged his jeans and underwear the rest of the way off and Kurt did the same. He watched in awe as Kurt hoisted himself up on the counter, his bare ass touching the tile, and gave him a pleading look.

"Just lube yourself up," he ordered, yanking the condom out of Carson's hands and unrolling it onto him. "I don't want to wait, I just want you."

"Fuck," Carson murmured, swallowing hard as he followed instructions. He covered his erection with a generous amount of lube, swirling some around Kurt's entrance with his finger before he lined himself up and gently began to push himself inside.

"Oh... OH, oh god," Kurt gasped, his hands scrabbling at Carson's back, and Carson moaned as he felt nails digging into his skin. He loved whenever he had a back full of scratch marks after he and Kurt fucked. They were like a constant reminder that they'd had fun. That Carson had reduced Kurt to something primal and animal, something that could only be expressed through physical aggression.

He pulled almost all the way out before plunging back in, earning a scream from Kurt as a reward, and he repeated the action, thoroughly enjoying the loud moans that his twin wasn't even bothering to keep quiet as he held onto Carson's neck for dear life and wrapped his legs securely around his waist. Carson began increasing his pace until he was fucking him in earnest, the sound of grunts, moans, and skin slapping against skin filling the kitchen until something just broke inside both of them and they came at the exact same time, something that had never happened before. It was intense, so much so that Carson seriously thought he was going to die, and the sounds coming out of both of them would have put any porno to shame.

It was, quite frankly, the most passionate, intense moment of Carson's life. And, from the look Kurt gave him as they locked eyes and came down from their orgasms, his twin felt the same.

"Oh my God," Kurt gasped as Carson pulled out and threw away the condom, making sure to hide it under several layers of trash.

"I know," Carson agreed, his breath still coming out in short pants as he took Kurt back into his arms and rested his forehead against his. "Fuck, I can't believe we did that."

Kurt giggled, kissing Carson on the lips and cupping his face in his hands. "We should abstain for weeks on end more often if this is what comes of it," he said, hopping down from the counter and wincing as he reached for a paper napkin. He wet one for himself and one for Carson, and they quickly cleaned themselves up before reaching for their pants.

"I don't know," said Carson as he pulled his pants on and fumbled with the zipper. "I don't think I can go that long on a regular basis without-"

The sudden, horrified look on Kurt's face made him stop talking, and as soon as he turned around he knew exactly why his twin looked like that. All the blood drained from his face as he looked over at the archway between the kitchen and the living room, where both of their parents stood staring at them. The shock on their mother's face was bad, but the absolutely demonically angry look on their father's face was worse.

Nobody said anything for several long minutes. Carson didn't know about anyone else, but he knew that he couldn't speak. He couldn't even move. He stood rooted to the spot, his pants still half unzipped, knowing for absolute certain that he was dead. There was no way around it, his father was going to kill him. His heart was beating in his chest at such a rapid pace that he thought it would fall out, and every breath he took was a struggle as his face radiated with heat.

"What. The FUCK. Is going on here?" their father asked at last, his voice low and very dangerous as he fixed his eyes on Carson, looking very much like he wanted to strangle him. Carson glanced over to Kurt, who looked absolutely terrified, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open as he looked at their parents.

"I... Dad, I..." Kurt stammered.

"No," Neal interrupted him, continuing to glare at Carson. "I'm talking to your brother. Your good for nothing, piece of shit asshole of a brother," he added, taking several menacing steps toward Carson, who couldn't move even if he wanted to. "Just what the fuck... I'll kill you!" he shouted, closing the distance between himself and Carson and grabbing him by the neck of his hoodie, throwing him up against the wall and pinning him there as Carson yelped in pain at the sharp contact between his back and the hard wall.

"You think you can live in my house, act like an ungrateful little shit, and do vile, disgusting things to my son?!" Neal bellowed in his face, flecks of spit hitting Carson as his father frothed with rage. He'd never seen him so angry before, not even when he was very small and would get yelled at for breaking a dish or touching Neal's briefcase without permission. Nothing compared to the way he looked now as he pulled Carson back and slammed him up against the wall again. Carson started shaking with genuine fear as he struggled against his father's iron grip.

"You think you can take advantage of him, influence him to mutilate himself, use him for your own sick, perverted shit?" Neal screamed.

"Dad, let go of him!" Kurt cried, tears falling down his cheeks as he watched the scene unfolding in front of him. "Please!"

"I will not!" roared Neal. He raised one fist in the air, and Carson barely had time to react before it was connecting with his eye, jolts of pain radiating up and down his face as he tried to fall to the floor, but his father wouldn't let go of him. He heard Kurt scream and his mother gasp, and the next thing he knew there were hands pushing his father away and Kurt was holding him, cradling Carson's face to his chest so that all Carson could see and feel was the soft fabric of Kurt's shirt as it brushed against his throbbing face.

"Get away from him, Kurt," Neal ordered.

"No!" screamed Kurt. "No," he repeated, a little softer as he stroked Carson's hair. "I won't let you hurt him!"

"Hurt him?" Neal spat. "He's been hurting you! He's a fucking shit who should have never been born, like I've always said, and he's goddamn lucky that we didn't go through with nipping him in the bud when we had the chance," he finished. Carson was suddenly very grateful for the cover of Kurt's shirt so that no one could see the tears that were falling from his eyes. He felt himself involuntarily quivering when Neal yanked him by the hoodie away from Kurt and got back up in his face, his eyes narrowed at him in unimaginable anger.

"I want you out of my house," he said in a low voice that was almost a growl. "Now. You have ten seconds to get out, or I will escort you out by your goddamn neck."

"Dad," Kurt pleaded.

"Ten seconds," Neal repeated. "One... two... three..."

Carson didn't wait for him to finish. He got up as best he could, considering that his legs were wobbling so badly he could barely move, and practically threw himself out of the kitchen door and into the cold air of the approaching dusk.

"Don't you fucking think about coming back!" he heard his father yell after him. He ignored him and ran as he found the strength in his legs again. He didn't think about where he was going or what he would do when he got there. He didn't think about how freezing it was, or the fact that he could see his breath puffing out in front of him. He just ran as fast as he could, as far away from the house as he could, as far away from his parents and Kurt as he could.

I have to get away. I have to get far away. I have to disappear and everyone has to forget about me, and then everything will be fine, but I have to get away.

I hate everything. Everything hates me.

Kurt honestly didn't know how he managed not to have a nervous breakdown that afternoon. He supposed it was the shock of it all. One minute he and Carson had been looking at each other in their usual giddy, blissful afterglow, and the next everything had suddenly turned to shit.

"Where is he supposed to go?" he demanded, screaming at his father after Carson had ran out of the house. "Where? It's freezing outside! He doesn't even have his jacket," he cried, glancing forlornly over at Carson's heavy coat, which had been hastily shed that afternoon in the heat of passion when they had arrived home.

"Good," his father replied. "Maybe it'll freeze the freak right out of him."

"He doesn't have anywhere to go," Kurt pleaded. "It's getting dark soon, and the temperature's going to drop. He could die!"

"We can only hope," spat Neal, turning on his heel and storming out of the kitchen. Kurt turned his attention over to his mother, who hadn't said a word the entire time, except to gasp in surprise when Neal had punched Carson.

"Mom, you can't let him do this," he pleaded. "You can't!"

Sheryl just looked at him for a moment, opening her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but apparently changing her mind. She turned and left too, leaving Kurt alone in the kitchen. He hugged his knees to his chest, letting himself sob for only a moment before a sense of determination overtook his soul.

If Carson wasn't welcome at home, then Kurt sure as fuck wasn't going to stay there, either.

He got up, grabbing his and Carson's coats, and marched himself upstairs. He threw open his closet and yanked out two duffel bags, which he filled with some clothes and other necessities before going into Carson's room. He gathered up some of Carson's clothes, along with two blankets, pillows, and the journal Carson thought he didn't know about, and dragged the full bags down the stairs, where his parents were sitting at the kitchen table just staring into space.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" asked Neal. "Get back upstairs with those bags."

"No," Kurt said defiantly. "I'm going after him, and you can't stop me."

"Get back upstairs, Kurt," Neal ordered.

"I said no," said Kurt, glaring at him. "I'm not going to let him go through this alone. He's my... he's my brother, and I won't... where he goes, I go," he finished.

"Kurt," his mother spoke up, but Kurt had had enough.

"You can't just treat him like this," he said shakily. "You can't just treat him like shit his entire life, you can't just tell him every day how much you never wanted him. Nobody deserves to be treated that way, not even you!" he screamed. "He didn't do anything to me. Nothing that I didn't fucking want him to, and if that makes me a sick freak or whatever the hell you think, then good. I'm a sick freak, too." He stormed past them and out the door, putting on his coat and holding one duffel bag in each hand as he looked around helplessly.

Carson. Carsey, where are you, baby?

He yanked his phone out of his pocket, knowing that Carson probably wouldn't answer but hoping that a miracle would happen anyway.

Nothing.

Come on, Carson, I have to know you're alright, he thought frantically as he started walking aimlessly down the street. His brain ran through all the possibilities of where Carson could be, each one more horrifying than the last. He could be in an alley somewhere, he could be on a bus to London, he could have been hit by a bus and laying dead in the street somewhere, and Kurt would never see him again, and it would be all his fault for not insisting that they have sex in the bedroom in the first place, and...

Jesus, Kurt, calm down.

So he tried to. He put himself in Carson's shoes and tried to figure out where he would go if he was Carson and didn't feel like anyone in the world really cared about him.

Well, he would probably go to the one person who did care about him. Even if she didn't remember who he was.

I'm coming, Carson.