There was once a time when the worst thing Carson could imagine happening was their father announcing that he and Carole Hudson had finally decided to get married. Last year, he probably would have been hard pressed to think of something that would be worse than having to share a house with Finn. Nowadays, however, the worst thing Carson could possibly conceive of happening would be for Kurt’s bullying to get even worse (or for Kurt to start seriously dating that douchy Warbler), so that probably explained why he wasn’t too seriously disturbed when Burt and Carole showed up in the halls of McKinley one day and announced to him, Kurt, and Finn that they were officially engaged. He wasn’t exactly happy about it, of course, but he had bigger fish to fry and more important things to worry about at the moment than his family situation.

Like, for example, the fact that Kurt still flat-out refused to identify his attacker. Carson had taken to designating himself as something of a personal bodyguard for Kurt, sticking with him as often as he possibly could during the school day. But Carson couldn’t be there with him every minute of every day, no matter how much he would have liked to, and he knew for a fact that Kurt was still being tortured as much as ever when he wasn’t with him. Kurt was clearly trying to pretend that all was well, but Carson knew better. All it took was seeing the little wince of pain that crossed Kurt’s face if something accidentally touched a fresh bruise. Or even observing the way he always looked like he was being led to the electric chair as he entered the school every morning and the relief on his face when he left every afternoon, as though happy just to have survived another day. Carson sometimes wished he could just scoop Kurt up and put him in his pocket all day, where he would be safe from harm. He felt so powerless, like he was failing Kurt and letting him down by not being able to help him, and he hated every second of it.

As if this wasn’t enough, on top of all of that Kurt was spending more and more time with that damn Dalton guy. It drove Carson absolutely nuts for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was that Carson didn’t trust Blaine as far as he could throw him. Not to mention that seeing how obviously smitten with the guy Kurt was made Carson feel like drowning himself.  And now that Kurt had taken it upon himself to plan every detail of Burt and Carole’s wedding, Blaine was over at the house a lot in order to “help Kurt” (or so he said). Much too often for Carson’s liking. He’d had been taken quite by surprise the first time Kurt had invited Blaine over. Carson had come home from visiting Grandma on a Saturday afternoon to find Kurt and Blaine down in the twins’ bedroom, sitting side by side on their bed giggling and looking through the stack of wedding magazines that Kurt usually kept hidden under his side of it.

“Ahem.” Carson had cleared his throat to announce his presence, causing both boys to look up at him. Blaine had looked startled, Kurt slightly guilty.

“Carson!” he squeaked, his cheeks flushing red. “Um…you know Blaine,” he said with a gesture of his hand toward the boy next to him.

“Hi,” said Blaine, giving a little wave that made Carson want to just break his stupid hand off.

“Yeah,” said Carson, looking Blaine up and down and deciding that he really must not own any regular clothes, because he was still wearing that Dalton uniform. He wondered if he ever took it off or washed it. “Tell me, Kurt, what’s he doing in our bedroom when no one is home?”

Kurt’s cheeks turned an even deeper shade of scarlet as he gave Carson a look that was clearly pleading with him to shut up. “I was just showing him my wedding magazines,” he said through slightly gritted teeth.

“Really? That’s nice. I think you could read them just as well upstairs in the kitchen, wouldn’t you agree?” Carson asked brightly. “It’s brighter up there, anyway. Better light for you to see. And nice, evenly spaced chairs that keep a respectable distance between everyone.” Kurt shot him a look that could freeze hell, and Blaine had gotten up from the bed quickly, smoothing out his blazer and looking nervously from Carson to Kurt.

“You know, it’s actually getting pretty late. I should probably be heading back to Dalton,” said Blaine.

“That is an excellent idea,” said Carson, his arms crossed casually in front of his chest. “We wouldn’t want you to miss your curfew, Brandon.”

“It’s Blaine,” Blaine corrected him, grabbing his bag off the bedroom sofa and slinging it over his shoulder.

“My apologies, Bobby,” said Carson. “Shame you couldn’t stay longer. A real shame. Maybe next time, hmm? Drive carefully, now.”

Blaine gave him a nod. “Bye, Kurt,” he said, flashing that too-white smile of his. “I had fun.”  I swear to god he must fucking bleach those things on a daily basis. They’re ridiculously white, thought Carson. And what does he mean he had fun? Yeah, I bet he had fun. Lots of fun trying to take advantage of Kurt.

“Bye, Blaine,” answered Kurt, shooting Carson a look that plainly said “Are you happy now?” Blaine gave him a little wave and headed quickly back up the basement stairs, and Carson let out a small sigh of relief when he heard the front door open and close.

“Oh my god, Carson, you are so embarrassing!” exclaimed Kurt, getting up from the bed and huffily stacking all his magazines back up. “We were just looking at these! He was being a perfect gentleman, considering we’re just friends, and everyone’s hands were being kept to themselves. You didn’t have to kick him out!”

“I didn’t kick him out,” Carson said calmly, crossing over to help Kurt stack the magazines. “He let himself out.”

“You make him uncomfortable, you know,” Kurt mumbled, yanking the rest of the stack out of Carson’s hands and placing all the issues neatly back under his side of the bed.

“Good, because he makes me uncomfortable, what with his spending so much time alone with you with god knows what on his mind,” said Carson. “I’m just doing my part to protect you.”

Kurt had just raised his eyebrows at him. That was the first of many times that Carson had to deal with that overly gelled hobbit hanging out at their house after school and on weekends, but he supposed it was better than Kurt spending time with him in his dorm room at Dalton where Carson couldn’t readily keep an eye on them. Still, though. He didn’t approve of Kurt spending so much time with Blaine. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel just the slightest twinge of jealousy every time he saw them having fun together.

He’s not worth your time, Kurt. He just…..he just isn’t.

Ok, so maybe it was more like a tidal wave of jealousy.

**********

Ever since the day that Karofsky had threatened to kill him, Kurt had been pretty much in a constant state of panic and fear every time he entered the hallways of McKinley. He didn’t know if Karofsky actually meant what he said, but he couldn’t be certain that he didn’t. To be honest, he could easily see Karofsky cornering him alone one day where no one would be able to help him and making good on his threat, and that absolutely terrified Kurt. He had hoped that bringing Blaine to school with him to confront Karofsky would have some effect; that at the very least, he would back off a little if he knew that someone else knew. Unfortunately, Kurt was now being harassed even more than before. Karofsky still never did anything when Carson was around, and Kurt was grateful for that, especially since Carson had seemingly made it his mission to escort him everywhere he went. But there were still plenty of times that Carson couldn’t be with him, leaving Kurt alone and vulnerable and ensuring that he still had a constant supply of fresh bruises springing up daily on his back. Not to mention that he had a sinking feeling that Karofsky’s reluctance to torture him in Carson’s presence wouldn’t last very much longer, and eventually Carson would end up bearing witness to one of his attacks on Kurt. And then what? Carson would go nuts wanting to protect him, and he would surely get hurt doing it.

Kurt spent much of his school time now wishing he could just become invisible so that he wouldn’t have to worry about his or Carson’s safety.

He was ecstatic when his father and Carole announced their engagement, because it meant that now he had something to throw himself into. A wedding took serious planning, and Kurt had taken it upon himself to make sure that this wedding would be the wedding to end all weddings. He had carefully planned everything (with the help of Blaine, who was just as eager as he was), right down to the vows, and he had to say, he was rather proud of his work. This was going to be the best wedding Lima had seen in years. Maybe even decades.

He just hoped Karofsky would allow him to live to see it.

**************

Carson rubbed his eyes and stared at his laptop screen, willing the pile of articles he had to finish typing to just type themselves. He had skipped glee today in order to catch up on some of his work, figuring that Kurt would be fine as long as Carson met up with him as soon as the club meeting let out. He’d been kind of neglecting the paper in his focus on keeping Kurt safe.

He was so engrossed in his work he didn’t even hear the knock on the door or realize he had company until a hand came down and slammed his laptop shut. He found himself staring into Santana Lopez’ face, which, at the moment, looked like she meant business.

“Can I help you?” he asked. “You know, it’s really fucking rude to do that to other people’s computers.”

Santana rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over the front of her Cheerio uniform. “Yeah, yeah, sorry or whatever. I have stuff to discuss with you, and I’m not particularly good at initiating a conversation without being a bitch. It’s kind of my thing.”

“And what, pray tell, would I possibly have to discuss with- oh no, what time is it?” Carson said suddenly, getting up from his chair and shoving his laptop into his bag. “Is glee done already? This is gonna have to wait, Santana. I have to go meet up with Kurt.”

“Relax, will you? He’s fine. Glee is still rehearsing for your dad’s wedding. I just snuck out early because this is important,” she said, her face becoming serious. “It’s about Kurt.”

Carson felt his stomach drop as he sat back down. “What about Kurt?”

“Let’s just say that I’m gonna go ahead and assume that you have no idea who’s been bullying Kurt all this time,” said Santana. “Actually, scratch that. I know you don’t know, because I asked Kurt today if you knew. He got very snippy with me and avoided the question while calling me a nosy bitch, so I went ahead and took that as a no. Luckily, Aunty Tanny has somewhat of a soft spot for her favorite gay, so she’s just gonna let that slide. She also thinks that his freakishly overprotective twin brother should know who’s been making his life hell.”

Carson felt a lump form in his throat as he sat up straighter in his seat. “I’m listening.”

*************

Kurt hurried through the halls as fast as he could after glee let out, stopping only to quickly retrieve his math book from his locker before heading straight for the journalism classroom. Luckily, Carson had skipped glee that day. Kurt wanted to hurry up and meet up with him before Carson went looking for him and heard about the glee guys getting into a fight with Karofsky that day on Kurt’s behalf. Not that he wasn’t grateful for their effort, but he really didn’t want Carson knowing about it. The longer he could hide the truth about his bullying from his twin, the better. Who knew? Maybe Karofsky would eventually get bored and stop, and Carson would never have to know.

Right, Kurt, and maybe Rachel will stop being such a diva and give away all her solos for the rest of her high school career.

He turned the corner toward the journalism classroom, hoping he could make it this one final stretch of hallway without running into Karofsky. If he could make it to Carson, he was safe. He had just about reached the classroom door when it opened and Santana walked out, smoothing her Cheerio skirt and texting on her phone, walking in the opposite direction away from Kurt. She hadn’t seen him.

So that’s where she disappeared to in the middle of glee. What the hell? What was she doing in there? thought Kurt. God, Carson, please don’t tell me I have to start worrying about you spending time with her. She’s no good for you. He pushed open the door and entered the classroom, where Carson was sitting at a desk, wearing the expression on his face he always got when he just couldn’t believe something had just happened.

You know what? I don’t want to know right now. It’s been a long and tiring day, and I just want to pretend everything is fine.

“Everything ok?” he asked Carson brightly. His twin looked over at him and jumped up from his chair immediately, looking like he wanted to say something. He actually opened his mouth as if to start speaking, but closed it, having apparently changed his mind.

“Yeah…..yeah, I’m good. Hey, why don’t we go home and you….you can show me all your latest plans for the wedding,” he said, sounding a little too eager. Kurt frowned. Carson never asked to see his wedding plans, and Kurt didn’t usually bother to involve him. Not after he had insisted to Kurt that all the flowers he had shown him looked exactly the same, despite the fact that Kurt tried to point out the slight differences in color.

“Okay,” Kurt replied. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright? Don’t you have to go visit Grandma?”

“I…I can skip today,” said Carson. He led him out into the hallway arm in arm, and Kurt was about to ask him if he was sure he was feeling alright when they turned the corner and walked right past Karofsky. Kurt froze as Karofsky directed a chilling smile in his direction, and he felt Carson’s grip on his arm tighten as he pulled Kurt closer to him.

Oh please….please don’t let this be the day my luck runs out, please. Please.

Thankfully, Karofsky continued walking past them and Kurt breathed a sigh of relief, although he knew he would probably pay for this the next day.

They went straight home and sat at the kitchen table with a bowl of popcorn between them as Kurt went over each of his plans for the wedding in detail, with Carson smiling and nodding in all the right places and even asking questions. It was weird. He’d never been this interested before. Unless….

Unless maybe he’s trying to distract me because he knows I saw Santana leaving the journalism classroom today and he’s embarrassed. Oh, Carsey.

“Kurt?” Carson asked as they prepared to go to bed that night.

“Yeah?” Kurt replied. Carson sounded like there was something heavy weighing on his mind. “What is it, Carsey?”

“I…” Carson began, then changed his mind and shook his head. “I just….never mind. Let’s go to sleep. It’s a long-ass day tomorrow.”

“Yes, and don’t forget, I want you and Finn in the choir room in the afternoon for dancing lessons. I’m teaching Dad a few things, and both of you need the practice too.”

“Aw, Kurt, do I have to?” Carson whined. “I don’t even want to dance at the wedding. I thought I’d just sit and watch everyone else dance and possibly make fun of them later.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes at him. “Carson. Come on. Humor me. Please?” He stuck his lip out in the pouty face, and Carson sighed.

“You never play fair.”

Kurt grinned. “I know. That’s what makes me the lovable cupcake you adore so much, right?”

Carson raised his eyebrows at him. “Don’t push it, Kurtsie. Good night,” he said, sliding under the covers and turning out the light.

“Good night, Carsey,” Kurt replied, snuggling up into his usual place in Carson’s arms.

**************

The small cry was what woke Carson up, his eyes fluttering open as he took in his surroundings.

“What is your problem!” he heard ring out in the quiet room, his eyes shooting open as he came to the realization that Kurt was having a nightmare beside him.

“Hit me….go ahead….hit me…” Kurt was saying, squirming around in the bed where he was still halfway held in place by Carson’s arms. Clearly he hadn’t gotten far enough into his dream to start sleepwalking yet.

“Kurt,” Carson whispered, stroking his arm gently. “Kurt, wake up.”

“STOP!” Kurt shouted. “NO, STOP. PLEASE.” He sounded panicked, his breathing turning into gasps, and Carson could feel Kurt’s heart beating like a jackhammer in his chest. He immediately grew alarmed.

“Kurt!” he said louder, shaking him. He had to wake him up and calm him down before he hyperventilated.

“DON’T!...Oh, god, STOP. CARSON! CARSON, WHERE ARE YOU? HELP ME. OH GOD, PLEASE HELP ME!” Kurt was flailing around, his feet kicking at something he could obviously see in his dream. “HELP..”

“Kurt!” Carson shouted, extremely scared now as he shook Kurt a little harder. “Oh god, Kurt, baby, WAKE UP.”

“CARSON, PLEASE! HELP MEEEE,” Kurt was crying now. He was fucking crying.

“KURT!” Carson leaned over him and took Kurt’s face in both is his hands, patting his cheeks as hard as he dared. He didn’t really want to slap him awake and hurt him. “Kurt, please wake up!”

Kurt let out a long gasp and his eyes flew open, filling with panic when he found himself with a body over him until he registered it was just Carson.

“C-carson?”

“Yeah, Kurtsie, it’s me,” Carson said softly, stroking Kurt’s cheek. “You were having a nightmare.”

Kurt sat up and threw his arms around Carson, hugging him close like his life depended on it (and maybe it did, if that nightmare was anything to go by).

“Carson, oh god, I…I was so scared, he…he…the locker room, and…..I needed you…”

“Shhhh,” Carson soothed, rubbing Kurt’s back and kissing the top of his hair. “I’m here. It was just a dream.”

Kurt started crying again, his shoulders raising up and down with huge sobs as Carson held him.

“I was so alone, Carson,” he said through sobs and hiccups. “I wanted you. Just you, and I…I couldn’t…”

Carson held him through it, gently massaging Kurt’s back until the sobs tapered off into sniffles. “I’m here now, Kurtsie. I’m here.” His conversation with Santana earlier that day appeared in the forefront of his mind as he took a deep breath and steeled himself up. Kurt would fight it, but Carson needed to know. He needed to hear it from Kurt.

“Kurt,” he said, his hands keeping up their gentle rhythm on Kurt’s back, “This is about your bullying, isn’t it?”

Kurt froze. “I…no…”

“Kurt, please be honest with me,” Carson pleaded. “You’re really starting to scare me. That nightmare sounded just awful, not to mention that you’re always in pain and you’re barely even eating anymore. You….you have to tell me who’s doing this to you. This can’t go on anymore. It’s killing you.” Kurt stiffened in his arms and gripped at him tighter.

“I can’t tell you,” he said quietly.

Ok. Enough was enough. Carson gently pulled Kurt away from him and looked him right in the eye.

“Kurt, I absolutely refuse to go another day with you keeping this big of a secret from me. I’m your brother, damn it. I love you. I love you so much. It’s my job to protect you, and I want to know who this asshole is and everything he has ever done to you, so he can pay.”

Kurt shook his head vigorously. “Carson, no. I can’t. I just can’t tell you.”

Carson sighed. “Kurt, look, I already know it’s Karofsky, so you might as well tell me everything.” Kurt looked at him sharply, panic filling his eyes once more as his mouth fell open.

“I…..how…who told you that?” he stammered. “It was Finn, wasn’t it? I told him to keep his stupid mouth shut. I told him. And he-“

“It was Santana, actually, but why does it matter who told me?” Carson asked, not paying enough attention to notice the dark look that crossed Kurt’s face at his words. “The point is, you didn’t, and in fact the whole fucking glee club knew about it before I did. And that hurts that you don’t trust me enough to-“

“It’s not that,” Kurt said quietly.

“What?”

“It’s not that I…that I don’t trust you. I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t want you confronting him and getting hurt,” said Kurt miserably. “I couldn’t handle that, Carson. If you got hurt because of me.”

Carson let out the huge breath he’d been holding and grabbed for Kurt’s hand, holding it gently in his own. “What did he do to you, Kurtsie? Please. Please tell me. I want to know everything. Just tell me everything, and I promise I won’t try to fight him, ok? We’ll figure something else out. Get the police involved if we have to. Ok? Just….please.”

Kurt closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out shakily before gripping Carson’s hand tighter. “Well…um…mostly he would walk up to me and slam me into lockers. That….that’s where the bruises came from. From the lockers.”

Carson did his best to squash the rising tidal wave of anger that was flowing through him at the thought of that oversized asshole hurting his brother like that. “What else?” he asked.

Kurt squirmed uncomfortably. “Well….he…oh Carson, you’re going to be so mad…”

Carson felt a lead weight settle in his stomach at those words. “Kurt, please. I promised you.”

Kurt swallowed and looked off to the side. “He….he…..he kissed me.”

Carson swore he felt his whole body explode with red, hot fury. “He WHAT?”

Kurt bit his lip and looked at him. “In the locker room, on the day the girls performed that mashup. I just….he had slammed me into the lockers again, and I was just tired of it, and I had just met Blaine, and he had said that I should-“

“Wait,” Carson interrupted. “You told him about Karofsky? Why?”

Kurt sighed. “I wasn’t planning on it, Carson. It just kind of spilled out the day we met. He’d been through bullying too, and he said that I should confront Karofsky. So I did, and…..he…..he just grabbed me and kissed me. Oh, Carson, it was awful. I was so scared, and I just….I wanted you. That was all I could think while it was happening. That I wanted you to come and hold me and…and tell me everything would be ok.” Kurt was crying again now, and Carson almost shattered into a million pieces as he grabbed him and held him, letting Kurt cry into his T-shirt as he thought dark, murderous thoughts about Karofsky. Karofsky, who had hurt Kurt. Who had sexually assaulted Kurt. He felt a brief pang of regret when he thought about the occasions where he had almost kissed Kurt himself, and he suddenly wished with all his might that he had. Because then at least Kurt’s first kiss wouldn’t have been with a closeted, abusive asshole who he was scared of. At least it would have been with someone who loved him with all their heart.

“Did he do anything else?” Carson asked quietly. Kurt was quiet for a minute before he shook his head against Carson’s chest.

“No…no, that…that’s all,” he said. “All…all he’s done is keep slamming me into lockers since Blaine talked to him about the kiss, and-“

“Wait, WHAT?” Carson exclaimed, pulling away from Kurt and looking at him incredulously. “Kurt, you told him about that kiss?”

“I’m sorry,” said Kurt quietly. “I need to talk to someone about it, and it….it couldn’t be you, so I told Blaine and he came to the school and tried to talk to Karofsky for me. He was trying to help.”

“Well obviously he did such a wonderful fucking job, because obviously you’re not being bullied anymore” Carson muttered sarcastically. “Kurt, I don’t understand. You should have come to me! I’m with you at school every day. Your little Warbler friend isn’t. I’m the one who can protect you. I’m the one who should protect you!”

“No, Carson, really. If you had known from the start that it was Karofsky, you would have gone right up to him and punched him or something, and then he would have seriously hurt you or worse,” said Kurt. “And I wasn’t going to let that happen to you. And you have to swear to me you won’t do that now that I’ve told you. I can’t go every day worrying about the next attack on me AND worrying about something happening to you. It’s too much for me to handle. So promise me. Please.”

Carson sighed. “As long as you promise me that you’ll tell me from now on when some asshole is bothering you.”

“I will. I….I promise. I’ll tell you everything,” said Kurt. Carson hugged him once more and stroked his hair.

“I won’t let him hurt you again, though, Kurtsie,” he whispered. “I promise I won’t.”

He settled down into the bed, pulling Kurt with him and holding him close against his chest, waiting for him to fall asleep. He thought about everything he had learned in the past twenty-four hours, and he seethed with anger.

He’d never wanted anyone dead as much as he wanted Karofsky dead.

***********

“Thank you three for attending the Kurt Hummel Wedding Dance Seminar,” Kurt said in the choir room the next afternoon as he stood facing three stools, on which sat Carson, Finn, and Burt. Carson didn’t really want to be there. He was in a bad mood. He’d planned to at least find Karofsky when he got to school that day and give him a verbal piece of his mind. He was also planning to let him know that if he ever even thought of touching Kurt again, Carson would make sure to find a way for him to regret it. He’d only promised Kurt he wouldn’t confront Karofsky violently. He’d said nothing about verbally.

But Karofsky hadn’t been seen all day, and Carson was uneasy. He wanted to know that Neanderthal’s whereabouts at all times.

“Dad,” Kurt continued, “You’re gonna have to pull off the first dance with Carole. And, if Uncle Andy’s 40th birthday party was any indication, you’re gonna need some work.”

“What are you talking about? My moves were great! It was the damn sangria,” Burt protested.

Carson snorted. Kurt looked over at him. “Don’t laugh, Carson. I’ve seen more than my fair share of what you call dancing, and trust me, you’ll need even more work than dad.”

Carson frowned. “Hey, Kurtsie, come on. Be nice to me.” He stuck out his lip in an attempt to do Kurt’s signature pout and Kurt just gave him a long, hard look.

“Again, that only works when I do it. Okay,” Kurt said, turning back to their dad and grabbing him by the hands, “We dance to the beat, not to the words.” He pulled him into the middle of the choir room and started leading him through the steps of what would be his first dance with Carole as Carson watched them, growing nervous. He hoped Kurt wasn’t planning to have him dance like that, because…no.

Kurt sent Burt off to go practice by himself while he worked with Finn. Carson yawned.

“I’ll be coming for you in a minute, Carson. Don’t think I won’t,” Kurt teased.

“Can I just die instead?”

“Nope,” said Kurt cheerfully. “Ok, Finn, come on.”

“Can we shut the door?” Finn whined. “I don’t feel comfortable doing this with people watching.”

“What are you talking about?” Kurt asked, exasperated. “You danced in front of a thousand people at regionals.” Finn sighed and conceded, letting Kurt take his hand and lead him in the dance he’d be doing with his mother at the reception.

Carson was the first one to notice Karofsky watching them through the open choir room door. His blood boiled as he glared at the larger boy, seething with fury. He couldn’t confront him right now. Not with his dad right there. Kurt would never forgive him.

Karofsky smirked and raised his hand in a limp wrist gesture clearly aimed at Kurt and Finn. Carson was two seconds away from getting up from his seat and punching the fuck out of him, but he didn’t get the chance, even if he’d decided to. Because everyone else in the room had turned just in time to see the gesture, too.

“What the hell was that?” Burt demanded to know as Karofsky turned around to leave.

“It’s nothing, Dad,” said Kurt, looking uncomfortable as he dropped Finn’s hands.

“That was not nothing,” said Burt, crossing over to Kurt and pointing out the door. “That guy was making fun of you. What the hell’s his name?”

Carson watched as Kurt’s face grew even more uncomfortable, the kind of face that Carson knew meant “Please get me out of here or let the floor swallow me up.”

Kurt, please. Tell Dad. Please.

“Tell him, Kurt,” spoke up Carson quietly. Kurt glared at him. I’m sorry, Kurt. I am. But I can’t let you go through this anymore.

“Tell me what?” Burt demanded.

“Tell him, or I will,” said Carson.

The look of betrayal on Kurt’s face nearly killed Carson, but he knew it was for the best. Their dad had to know.

“His name is Dave Karofsky,” answered Kurt. “He’s been harassing me for a few weeks now.” A few weeks is a bit of an understatement, Kurt. It’s been far longer than that.

“Harassing you how?” asked Burt, his voice dropping into what Carson recognized as dangerous territory.

“Just….shoving me and giving me a hard time,” said Kurt quickly. He wasn’t going to tell Burt about the kiss, clearly. Kurt, come on. He has to know.

“There’s more. There’s something else you’re not telling me,” said Burt.

Kurt, please tell him about the kiss. Please. He has to know everything so that he can help. I can’t help you by myself.

“He threatened to kill me,” said Kurt in a rush, looking guiltily over at Carson.

What.

WHAT?

What did he just say? Did…did he…Karofsky did WHAT?

The room suddenly went silent for Carson as his blood started rushing in his ears. Karofsky had threatened to kill Kurt. Kill him. Murder him. Hurt him so badly that he died.

And Kurt hadn’t told him. He’d promised to tell Carson everything, and he hadn’t. Carson didn’t know what to feel. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch a hole in the fucking choir room wall. He wanted to go after Karofsky and bash his face in with the nearest blunt object.

He was seriously considering that last option, but apparently, his dad also had plans for Karofsky. He was running out of the choir room before any of the three teens could say anything else to him. Carson ran after him, followed closely by Finn and Kurt. He caught up to him just as Burt caught Karofsky and slammed him up against the nearest wall. All the students in the hall stopped and stared.

“What the hell?” yelled Karofsky.

“You like picking on people? Why don’t you try me?” Burt growled, getting up in Karofsky’s face.

“Burt, stop!” exclaimed Finn.

“Please, you’re sick!” Kurt begged, grabbing at Burt’s arm and trying to pull him off Karofsky. “Come on!”

Burt let himself be pulled off Karofsky, who just stood there for a second. And Carson felt his anger rising within him like a fucking volcano. True, his father was too sick to be getting into physical fights to protect Kurt.

But Carson was perfectly healthy. And he was in a fucking rage.

For a minute, time stood still as Carson stood there staring at Karofsky. At his stupid fucking face. At his hands. He thought about how many times those menacing eyes had locked onto Kurt’s, silently threatening him into submission. He thought about how many times those hands had been on Kurt, roughly shoving him into the hard, metal lockers. How many times those hands had caused Kurt pain and suffering. He thought about the giant constellation of angry, painful bruises marring the smooth, porcelain skin of Kurt’s back. Bruises that had been caused by the very asshole standing before him. He thought about Kurt’s whimper of pain the night he had discovered those bruises. He thought about Kurt just twelve hours prior, screaming and begging the Karofsky of his nightmares to stop. He thought about Karofsky kissing Kurt in the locker room. How scared Kurt must have been. How trapped he must have felt. Carson knew, because he had felt it too. He thought about how the entire club had known about this before he had, and how he hadn’t been able to protect Kurt from experiencing this daily horror no matter how much he wanted to or tried. He was Kurt’s big brother. He was supposed to keep him safe and defend him from harm. Even more importantly, he loved Kurt. Not just as a brother, but in all ways. In every sense of the word, he loved Kurt.

And he had failed him. He had failed to protect the person he loved most in the world from this monster standing in front of him right now. This fucking animal who had hurt Kurt. Who had threatened to murder him. Who very well might have carried through with that threat if he had never been found out.

Carson thought about all of these things within the span of several seconds. And then he snapped. That asshole was never going to lay a finger on Kurt again if Carson had anything to say about it. And Carson had plenty to fucking say about it.

Without even thinking about the consequences, he found himself lunging for Karofsky, his fist connecting with the other boy’s jaw. Karofsky let out a yell and swung at him, missing when Carson ducked it just in the nick of time.

“Carson!” he heard Kurt scream behind him. “Carson, stop! NO!” Carson felt Karofsky kick him in the shin, and then Kurt was rushing up to them, grabbing at Karofsky’s arm as the larger boy was preparing to swing at Carson again.

“NO, don’t touch him!” Kurt screamed, trying to yank Karofsky’s arm away from Carson. Karofsky roughly threw him off and Kurt lost his balance and fell. He let out a small whimper as he collided with a wall of lockers, Finn and Burt rushing to his aid as everyone else in the hall just continued to stare. Everyone always stared. Useless fuckers.

Fuck no. That was it. Carson was DONE. That motherfucker had put his filthy hands on Kurt one too many times. Never again.

“You will NOT. Fucking. Hurt. My brother. Again.  You. Goddamn. Asshole!” Carson yelled, punctuating every word with a swing of his fist, some of which landed satisfyingly on Karofsky’s face and some of which didn’t. He swung wildly at him, pounding at every part of him he could reach, and everything became a blur. He knew he got in a couple of really good punches and at least one good kick, and then he was vaguely aware of Kurt screaming his name, and there was a sharp pain in his face as Karofsky finally landed a punch.

“ENOUGH!” Carson heard his father shouting as he collapsed to the floor, his face throbbing. “Get out of here NOW before I call the police. And don’t think this is over. You won’t be getting away with what you’ve been putting my kid through. Now GO!”

“If you ever fucking touch him again, I swear you will regret the day you were born, asshole!” Carson shouted after the retreating Karofsky, his voice echoing off the metal of the lockers. Through his good, unswollen eye, he saw Kurt shrug himself free from Finn, who had been holding him back from the fight, and then Kurt was kneeling beside him and Carson was being gently pulled into his twin’s lap. Kurt’s face was looking down at him, his eyes clouded over with worry and tears.

“Carson, oh my god,” he whispered, his hand ghosting over Carson’s injury but not touching it. “Oh, my poor baby. That must hurt so much.”

“Not really,” Carson lied, blinking up at him through his good eye.

“Liar,” said Kurt, stroking his hair softly. “Go get some ice from the cafeteria,” he ordered Finn, who was standing around looking like he didn’t quite know what to do. “I have to get the swelling in his face to go down.” Finn nodded and left, and Burt knelt down on the floor beside the twins, looking worried but also prouder than Carson could ever remember.

“You were brave, kid,” he said with a small smile. “Not that I condone violence, you understand, and I believe we had this talk before when you hit Finn.” Carson nodded.

“But,” his father continued, “I know how fiercely protective you are of Kurt, and considering the circumstances, I would gladly have done the same thing to that jerk. You’re a good brother, Carson. I’m proud of you.” He patted him affectionately on the shoulder and grabbed his hands, helping him up as Finn returned with a bag of ice. Kurt eagerly grabbed it from him with one hand and took Carson’s arm with the other.

“Come on, Carsey, we have to get the ice on that shiner before it swells more,” he said, leading Carson into a nearby restroom. He grabbed a handful of paper towels and set some ice inside, wrapping it and applying it gently to Carson’s swollen face.

“Ow,” Carson couldn’t help but groan as the cold compress made contact with his injury, causing a sharp spike of pain that radiated throughout his entire face.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said sympathetically. “It’s going to hurt for a while until the ice numbs it. He really got you good.” He eased the pressure of the ice slightly, and Carson sighed with relief.

“That’s better,” he said, trying to sound bright and giving Kurt a smile. “I’ll be good in a few minutes. Are you ok? You fell into the lockers.”

Kurt ignored the question. He looked at him carefully, an unreadable expression on his face as he gradually increased the pressure on the compress. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said quietly, his voice shaking slightly. “You….you could have been seriously hurt, and from now on he’s probably going to harass you, too. You promised me you wouldn’t do this.”

Carson raised his eyebrows at him (as well as he could, considering he couldn’t feel one of them at the moment). “Yeah, I did. And you promised me that you would tell me everything that asshole had done to you. You failed to mention that he threatened to kill you. So I guess we’re even, since we both broke promises to each other. Besides, I’d love to see him harass me. I hit him more than he hit me.”

Kurt sighed and closed his eyes, looking extremely fatigued. “Carson, I-“

“Did he know?” Carson asked quietly.

“What?”

“Your dapper little Warbler friend. He knew about Karofsky and the kiss. Did…did he know about this, too?” Carson could hear his voice breaking toward the end of that question, but he couldn’t help it.

Kurt shook his head. “No! No, Carson, I didn’t tell Blaine about this. I didn’t tell anyone. I was scared, and I didn’t know what Karofsky would do if-“

“No,” Carson interrupted. “Listen. He threatened to kill you, Kurt. KILL you. As in, end your life. And you didn’t tell me. You weren’t ever going to tell me. You weren’t going to tell anyone. And what if he had followed through with that threat? What if he had decided one day to do more than just slam you into a locker? Hmm? Then what? God, Kurt, do you have any idea what that would do to me if something happened to you, especially if I could have done something to stop it? I don’t know if you realize how much you mean to me, but I love you more than anything. I mean…do you even know how devastated I would be if I lost you? Do you? I-“

He was interrupted by Kurt’s soft hand cupping the good side of his face, his eyes staring directly into Carson’s. “Actually, Carson, I think I do,” he said, stroking Carson’s cheek gently with his thumb. “I know exactly how you would feel, because it’s the same way I would feel if anything happened to you. And that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew you would…well, I knew you would do exactly what you just did, no matter how much I begged you not to, and I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Carson sighed and nuzzled his face into Kurt’s touch, trying to compose himself before he ended up crying. “I just love you, Kurt. I want you to be safe, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I’d beat the shit out of Karofsky a thousand more times if I had to.”

Kurt set the ice pack down on a sink and wrapped his arms around Carson, pulling him into a tight hug. “I know you would, Carsey,” he whispered, rubbing small circles into Carson’s back as Carson returned the hug. “I know.”

Carson buried his face in Kurt’s shoulder and inhaled his familiar, comforting scent. Kurt was here and he was ok, and Carson would make damn sure nobody ever hurt him again. If Karofsky wanted to fuck with Kurt again, it would have to be over Carson’s dead body.

“So,” said Carson after a minute, “How did I do? I know I landed a few good punches. How was the damage?”

Kurt laughed and pulled away from the hug to look at him. “You did pretty well, actually. He was bleeding when he left.”

“Good,” replied Carson. “He’ll be dead the next time if he ever touches you again.” He grabbed Kurt’s hand and gently held it in his own, running his thumb over the soft skin on the back of it. “No more secrecy, ok? Next time anyone bothers you, I want you to tell me. Please?”

Kurt leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead before hugging him once more. “I promise. I do. Now, let’s get more ice on that thing. It must hurt like hell.”

Carson sighed. “It does. It really does.”

************

Thankfully, a meeting with Ms. Sylvester was all it took to get Karofsky expelled from school, for which Carson was extremely grateful. Kurt could actually walk down the school hallways again without fearing for his safety, and Carson was able to relax a little with his bodyguard routine (although he would never truly relax when it came to Kurt…not really). Carson had been let off with a warning not to get into any more physical fights.

So the plans for the Hudson/Hummel wedding were once again underway. Burt had found them a bigger house several blocks away from their old one several weeks before Karofsky’s expulsion, and they were able to move in fairly quickly. Carson was relieved to note that there was still a bedroom big enough for him and Kurt to share, while Finn got his own room.

Good, Carson had thought as he and Kurt moved their furniture into their new bedroom. I was NOT going to have a repeat of the Great Lamp Incident of 2010. It did feel weird not sleeping in the basement, but he adjusted.

So then there was nothing left but to finish the last minute details for the wedding. Kurt worked double time making sure everything was perfect, calling in Blaine for reinforcements every once in a while, much to Carson’s chagrin. He was relieved as fuck to learn that, even though Kurt had invited him, Blaine wouldn’t be able to make it.

“Good,” Carson had said when Kurt told him the news. “This wedding is for humans, not hobbits. Rachel’s lucky we’re even allowing her to attend.”

The actual wedding went off without a hitch, even if he and Kurt had had an argument on the morning of the ceremony over concealer.

“I don’t waaaaant it!” Carson had whined when Kurt chased him down with the stick of pale makeup.

“You should wear it on your eye, Carson,” Kurt had insisted. “Your bruising hasn’t gone down yet. Do you really want it showing up in the pictures you’re going to see for the rest of your life?”

“Yes!”

“But Carson-“

“Look, Kurt, I’m actually kind of proud of this black eye, ok? I got it from defending you. When I look back on the pictures in fifty years, I’ll be able to say “Look at that shiner. I got it from beating up the asshole who thought he could hurt my Kurtsie and get away with it.” And then everyone will say how awesome and heroic I was.”

Kurt had given him an amused smile and cupped Carson’s face with his hands, placing a gentle kiss over his still slightly swollen eye.

“Know what? That’s why I love you,” he’d said. “Ok, you don’t have to wear the concealer.”

Now the ceremony was finished, and Carson was just grateful it was over and he wouldn’t have to perform any more Bruno Mars songs with the glee club for the rest of the evening. He prepared to just sit back during the reception and relax. Maybe Kurt would forget that he’d wanted him to dance.

He was slightly horrified that he had to watch Mr. Schuester sing while Burt and Carole danced their first dance, but not nearly as horrified as he was by Finn’s best man speech.

“Hi,” said Finn stupidly into the microphone. “Uh. Thank you. Best man. Right. Uh-“

Well, this is just off to SUCH a great start, isn’t it? thought Carson.

“Well, I want to propose a toast to my mom, who is so awesome,” Finn said at last. “Uh..I mean…somehow, even without one in the house, you taught me what it means to be a man.”

Really? I thought Mr. Schue taught you what it meant to be a man. Or so you’ve said repeatedly ever since you joined the damn glee club.

“In glee club,” Finn continued, “uh...whenever two of us got together, we got a nickname. Rachel and I are Finchel, Rachel and Puck were Puckleberry..”

Rachel gets around, we get it. Get to the point.

“..and today, a new union was formed. Furt.”

Oh my god, are you fucking kidding me?

“You and me, man,” said Finn to an embarrassed looking Kurt. “We’re brothers from another mother.”

I have news for you, Finn, it was Kurson long before it was fucking Furt, so shut the hell up.

“And quite frankly, no one has taught me as much as you about what it means to be a man,” Finn continued.

Jesus. H. Christ.

“From now on, no matter what it costs me, I’ve got your back,” Finn finished.

Yeah, now that Karofsky isn’t a threat, you’ve got his back. Excuse me, Finn, I don’t believe you’re the one who’s been with Kurt his whole life and, in particular, has soothed him through horrible, screaming nightmares about what Karofsky did to him. I also don’t think you’re the one sitting here with a black eye from having Kurt’s back. You know who is, though? Me. Kurt’s back is MINE, ok?

Finn said a few more words about Kurt’s awesome wedding planning skills and then launched into a caterwauling rendition of “Just The Way You Are,” which he dedicated to Kurt. Carson wished desperately that he had an aspirin to deal with the headache that was forming both from having to Finn sing another Bruno song, and from him dedicating a song to Kurt in which he referred to him repeatedly as “Girl.”

Finn….I fucking can’t.

He pretty much gave up when Kurt and Finn pulled their parents up to dance toward the end of the song and then Santana rushed over to pull Carson into a dance, despite how hard he resisted. He was grateful that Kurt marched over at the beginning of the next song (a slow one played on the loudspeakers and not sung by Finn, thankfully), and tapped Santana on the shoulder.

“Move, Satan. I’m cutting in,” he said, grabbing Carson’s hands and beginning to lead him in the dance they had practiced in their bedroom the day after the Karofsky fight.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Carson mumbled, trying to remember what Kurt had said to do with his feet. Kurt laughed.

“You’re hopeless! Ok, just….here, put your head on my shoulder and just sway with me,” he said. Carson obeyed, resting his head on Kurt’s shoulder and losing himself in the melody of the song. He didn’t know what it was, but it sounded pretty. He breathed in and savored the scent of Kurt’s cologne, letting it envelop his senses.

“You threw a great wedding,” he said.

Kurt smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks, Carsey. I can’t wait to plan my own someday,” Kurt replied, sounding wistful. Carson had a feeling he was probably thinking about Blaine, and his chest began to ache.

“Yeah….me too.”

*********

Carson felt like he was going to die as he sat in the backseat of their father’s car next to Kurt. They were taking him to Dalton Academy, where it was decided Kurt would be much safer in the long run than he would be if he stayed at McKinley. Karofsky was back. His expulsion had been reversed by the school board shortly after the wedding. Carson had been so angry when he found out, but not as angry (or fucking sad) as he had been when he had learned of Kurt’s decision to transfer schools.

“Kurt, you can’t go to Dalton, of all places!” he’d protested. “You’ll be around that creepy hobbit guy all day! Not to mention that you’ll have to board there! I….I won’t be there to protect you,” he said.

Kurt had given him a sympathetic look and put his arm around him. “I know, Carson, but they have zero-tolerance for bullying. It’s really the safest place. I can’t stay here anymore. Not with Karofsky around.”

“I’ll kill him!” said Carson. “I will. I’ll make him never want to touch you again. I’ll-“

“Carson,” said Kurt sadly, shaking his head. “No. Please don’t make this harder for me. It’s going to be hard enough as it is.”

So now Carson found himself standing in Kurt’s new dorm room, helping him and their father move Kurt’s things in and trying not to think about the fact that when he returned home that night, it would be without his twin.

“Now, remember, Kurt, if you need anything, anything at all, we’re just a phone call away,” Burt reminded him for the hundredth time as he wrapped Kurt up in a hug. They were about to leave. And Carson wasn’t ready.

“I know, Dad,” Kurt said, his words muffled by their father’s shirt as he hugged him back. “I’ll be fine.”

“And you can always come home,” Burt continued.

“Dad, I’ll be fine,” Kurt insisted. “I promise.”

“Right. Of course you will. It’s just….you’re my baby and neither one of you boys have ever lived away from home before, and-“

“Dad, seriously, you’re going to make me all depressed,” said Kurt. He turned to Carson and gave him a long, sad look.

“I’ll leave you two to say your goodbyes,” said Burt, patting Kurt on the shoulder one last time before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. The boys just looked at each other for a long minute.

“So….I guess….I guess this is it,” said Carson, trying valiantly not to sound as depressed as he felt. “This is where we really say goodbye.”

Kurt said nothing for a second, and then before Carson knew it, he found himself with an armful of Kurt as Kurt launched himself at him, wrapping him in the tightest hug Carson had ever felt.

“I’m going to miss you the most,” he said tearfully, and Carson could feel Kurt’s tears on his neck as Kurt rested his head there. “Everyone else….I mean, it will be weird not to see them every day, especially Dad, but….I…I’ve never been apart from you before, Carsey. I don’t know if I can…”

“Shhhh,” Carson said soothingly, holding Kurt gently against him and trying not to cry. He couldn’t let Kurt see him cry. ”It’s ok, Kurtsie. It’s not forever. We’ll still see each other on the weekends, right?”

He felt Kurt nod. “Right.”

“Exactly. I’ll drive here to pick you up every Friday, rain or shine. You can count on that. And I will call you every day. Probably like eight or nine times a day. And you’d better pick up every time or else my mind will go nuts with worry that your little Warbler friend has dragged you over to his hobbit cave to have his wicked way with you,” said Carson, smiling a little when he heard Kurt’s strangled giggle, even though he was only half kidding.

“You worry too much,” Kurt said, pulling his face away from Carson’s neck and looking him in the eyes.

“You’re right. I do. And I always will, no matter what. But I know that this is what’s best for you, Kurt, and even though it fucking kills me to let you go, that’s what it’s gonna take for you to be safe. McKinley isn’t safe. And despite the fact that this place looks like a creepy school in some horror movie about secret societies and I don’t trust that Baxter guy you like so much, it’s actually the safest place for you.”

Kurt bit his lip and nodded. “What about you?” he asked.

“What about me?”

“You’re not the only one who worries, you know,” said Kurt, wiping the tears away from his eyes and sniffling. “You’re probably on Karofsky’s shit list by now, and if…if he doesn’t have me to pick on, he-“

“Ok, you stop that right now,” said Carson firmly locking his eyes on his twin’s matching ones. “I don’t want you to worry about me, ok? I’ll be fine.”

“But-“

“Nope, stop it. I will be absolutely fine, and I’d love to see Karofsky try anything with me, especially since I still have a lot of pent up anger toward him for what he did to you. If he pulls shit, he will regret it. Trust me,” said Carson, tapping lightly on the end of Kurt’s nose.

Kurt nodded tentatively. “I trust you,” he said with a small smile, returning to the hug and burying his face against the skin on Carson’s neck again.

“I’m going to miss you so much, though,” he whispered. Carson closed his eyes and just held him, feeling Kurt’s heartbeat against his own and pleading with himself not to cry. Not here. Not in front of Kurt.

“I’ll miss you too,” he replied. “More than you know.” He didn’t need to say that he would miss Kurt so much that it would physically hurt him. Kurt didn’t need to know that. It would only make him feel worse.

They stood there hugging for what seemed like forever until Burt opened the door back up and gently tapped Carson on the shoulder.

“Hey, kid, we’ve gotta get going,” he said as Carson broke from Kurt’s embrace. Kurt grabbed onto his hand and held tight.

“Bye, Kurtsie,” Carson said.

“Bye,” said Kurt sadly, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he said as their hands slowly drifted apart.

Carson and Burt left the school then, heading out to the car in the visitor’s parking lot. Carson buckled his seatbelt and glanced up at the huge, intimidating building where his baby brother was now going to be navigating through each of his days completely alone. Carson wouldn’t be there to look out for him and make sure that he was safe.

“Take care of him. Oh god, please. Take care of him,” he whispered to the school as his father started the car engine.

He managed to wait until he was safely in his and Kurt’s bedroom that night, in bed, with the door closed and the light off, before he let himself start to cry. It was so weird to be in their bed alone, and in a room that was still so new and unfamiliar. He’d never gone a night without Kurt at least being in the same room. And now there was no Kurt. Kurt was miles away, laying alone in his dorm room. Carson wondered how he was dealing with the separation.

Probably much better than I am, he thought. He’d always known that they would have to deal with this someday, but he had thought he wouldn’t have to worry about it until they went off to college. He wasn’t ready yet. He wasn’t ready to lose Kurt.

He sighed and willed himself to just fall asleep already, but it was no use. Sleep wasn’t coming. Sleep couldn’t come. He needed Kurt with him.

Fuck, he thought sadly. Getting out of bed, he crossed over to their closet and rooted through it until he came across one of Kurt’s sleep T-shirts (hanging neatly on a hanger, of course, because Kurt hung up all of his clothes, even the sweats and sleepwear that he would never let anyone but Carson catch him dead wearing out of the house). He brought the shirt over to the bed and gently laid it over one of the pillows, smoothing it out so that the T-shirt fit over it like a pillowcase. It wasn’t Kurt, of course, but at least it would smell like him. Carson hugged the pillow to his chest and took a deep breath, letting the scent of Kurt’s detergent fill his nose.

And then the tears really started to fall. Carson couldn’t remember ever crying so much in his entire life. He just wasn’t much of a crier. But this….being apart from his twin was just too much to handle.

“Kurt,” he whispered into the pillow. “I don’t know if I can do this.” But he had to. For Kurt’s own good, he had to.

The sound of his phone ringing broke through his cloud of depression, and the sight of Kurt’s smiling face on the call screen made his heart leap into his throat as he hurried to answer it.

“Kurt!” he said happily, trying to hide his shaking breath from the crying.

“I didn’t think you could sleep, either,” came Kurt’s quiet voice on the other end of the line.

Carson sighed. “You’re right. I can’t. Honestly, Kurtsie, this….this kind of sucks.”

“I know, it totally sucks,” agreed Kurt. “We’ve never slept apart before. I, um….ok, don’t be mad, but I kind of stole one of your hoodies and took it with me so I could wrap a pillow in it. I just needed something to hug that reminded me of you.”

Carson looked over at his makeshift Kurt pillow and bit back a laugh. “It’s fine, Kurt. Actually, I’m glad you did.”

He heard Kurt sigh with relief, and then there was silence for a minute. “Carsey?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you stay on the phone with me until I fall asleep? You don’t have to talk or anything, I just…I just would feel better knowing that you’re there, kind of.” Kurt’s voice sounded so small and far away, and Carson felt something deep inside of him start to hurt.

“Of course I will, Kurtsie. You don’t even have to ask,” Carson replied, deciding not to tell his twin that this would help him just as much as it would help Kurt. He had a feeling Kurt probably knew, anyway, on some level.

“Thanks,” Kurt said quietly. “God, Carson, I miss you so much already.”

“I know,” said Carson, Boy, did he know. “But Friday will be here before you know it.”

“Mmm, want it now,” replied Kurt, sounding sleepy now.

“Go to sleep, Kurtsie. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” said Kurt.

Carson placed his phone on top of Kurt Pillow and hugged it to his chest again, comforted by the sound of Kurt breathing on the other end. It still wasn’t the same as having him there with him, but it was something.

He couldn’t wait for the weekend to come.

*********

The first week that Kurt was away at Dalton was the hardest for Carson to handle. His days were spent trudging through school like a zombie. He attended all his classes and had half-hearted Writers’ Club meetings with Malerie, but that was it. He stopped attending glee meetings altogether  (he didn’t see the point in continuing to be in glee club if Kurt wasn’t there). He went straight to Sunny Pastures after school every day, where he stayed for hours until it got to be too late for visitors and he was gently kicked out by the staff. He spent large portions of his day thinking about Kurt; what Kurt was doing, how he was feeling, if he was getting along alright in his classes. If he was making friends. If Blake was keeping his hands to himself. He texted Kurt as often as he could, and his day was always made momentarily brighter by Kurt’s replies, until he remembered that he wasn’t going to see him later that day.

Days were depressing, but nights were worse. He had such a hard time sleeping, even with his Kurt pillow, and he and Kurt couldn’t always stay on the phone with one another. More often than not he spent the whole night staring into the dark, feeling the loneliness crushing him from all sides. He missed Kurt so much it hurt.

That first Friday couldn’t come fast enough, and when it finally did, Carson practically sprang out of bed that morning. He was suddenly full of energy that had been absent from him for the past week. He was in such a good mood that he decided to hide the toilet paper in the upstairs bathroom before Finn woke up.

“Morning, Dad!” he said cheerfully as he came downstairs and poured himself some cereal. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

His father looked at him quizzically. “You’re in a good mood today, kid.”

Carson nodded. “Yep. Friday. Won’t be home after school, I’m leaving early to pick up Kurt.”

Burt smiled and nodded. “Good. Hey, call me when you get there, alright?”

“Will do,” said Carson. A strangled scream suddenly erupted from upstairs. Carson grinned. “I guess he can’t find the toilet paper, poor thing.”

It was, by far, the longest school day of Carson’s life, but at long last it had passed and he was on his way to Dalton to pick up Kurt. He got there just as school was letting out and got out of the car, leaning against it and waiting for his twin to appear in the huge crowd of identically-clothed students pouring out of the building and wandering the grounds outside.

I hope he remembers I’ll be here. I did tell him, right? Yes….yes I did. In my fourth text this morning. Or maybe the fifth. I dunno. I told him, though. I hope he can find me. Maybe I should text him again, or-

His thoughts stopped dead as his eyes zeroed in on Kurt, who was walking with Blaine across the school’s huge lawn and waving excitedly in Carson’s direction. Damn, I never thought that Dalton uniform was all that attractive, but as usual, Kurt makes everything look good. Never even knew I had a schoolboy fetish.

“Carsey!” Kurt shouted happily, walking faster across the lawn. Carson sprinted over to him, reaching him in about two seconds, and scooped him up into a big hug, his arms wrapped tightly around Kurt’s neck as he closed his eyes and sighed happily. This was Kurt. His twin. His love. Kurt was with him again. All was right with the world. He saw Blaine looking at them with a stupid, goofy smile on his face and narrowed his eyes at him, hugging Kurt tighter.

“Feels like you missed me,” Kurt said.

“You have no idea,” Carson replied.

“You guys are so close. That’s sweet,” said Blaine, grinning at them. Carson suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and broke from the hug, taking Kurt’s hand in his own and starting to pull him toward the car. “Come on, let’s get you home, Kurtsie.”

“Ok. Bye, Blaine,” Kurt said to the unwanted third wheel. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

“Bye, Kurt. Have fun!” replied Blaine.

“Gotta go, we’re…we’re late,” Carson muttered, leading Kurt by the hand over to the car as fast as possible.

Carson felt like he was in heaven as he drove Kurt back to Lima, listening with rapt attention as Kurt chattered about life at Dalton. He’d joined the Warblers, obviously, and was making friends. His classes were harder than at McKinley, but he was doing fine in them. The teachers were nice, No, Blaine wasn’t trying to drag him off to a secret sex dungeon, Carson, how could you even think that? And most importantly, there was no daily horror of being threatened by Karofsky.

Carson was most grateful for that last thing.

He felt really alive again as he crawled into bed with Kurt that night, curling up with him just as they had always done and inhaling the fresh, clean scent of him. This was right. This was home.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered into Kurt’s hair, running his hands up and down Kurt’s arms. Those muscles were really developing nicely. “I haven’t felt right without you.”

“I know what you mean,” Kurt said, snuggling into Carson’s arms and sighing. “Nights at Dalton are kind of hell. I’m not used to sleeping alone without you holding me, and I….I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it, to be honest. I just don’t know.”

“I’m already dreading you going back on Sunday,” Carson said unhappily. “I know Dalton is best for you, but I wish it wasn’t so far away. I hate not being with you. Not to mention that now I have to deal with living in the same house as Finn, and that’s torture enough. You don’t even know.”

“Hey,” Kurt said softly, tipping his head back to look at Carson. “Come on, now. Be nice. And let’s not focus on that now. Let’s enjoy our weekend, hmm?”

Carson smiled. “You’re right. Let’s go to sleep and actually….you know….be able to sleep. I haven’t gotten a proper night’s rest since you left. I feel like a fucking zombie. But a super intelligent zombie who’s a serious journalist and doesn’t tolerate other zombies’ bullshit.”

Kurt laughed. “I’ve missed you.”

“Good night, Kurtsie.”

“Good night.”

It was the most pleasant weekend Carson could ever remember having, even if he did get a little sad every time he remembered that Kurt had to go back on Sunday, and even if he did have to spend Saturday afternoon with Rachel and Mercedes because Kurt had wanted to hang out with them and Carson didn’t want to waste any of the weekend being away from Kurt.

But, all good things come to an end eventually, and so did the weekend. Kurt went back to Dalton, and Carson went back to being miserable at McKinley until the next Friday rolled around, occasionally insulting Finn for a few laughs, but otherwise just really hating his life. He only ever really felt like a whole person on the weekends now. He looked forward to them so much that he hated for anything to disrupt them, even if it was something like Kurt competing as part of the Warblers at Sectionals. Carson didn’t see why that had to fall on a Saturday, cutting severely into his quality Kurt time, but he still loved sitting in the audience and watching Kurt perform. Even if he was just glorified backup for Blaine, who was apparently the Rachel Berry of the Dalton Academy Warblers.  Christ, even transferring to another school, he can’t catch a break, can he? What the fuck will it take to convince people that Kurt needs to sing solos? Am I the only one who clearly recognizes that it’s bullshit he never gets any? Fuck.

After many weeks of torture, Christmas break finally rolled around, and Carson looked forward to having two and a half glorious, uninterrupted weeks with Kurt where he wouldn’t have to worry about losing him to Dalton. That was the best Christmas present he could ever hope for. He drove to Dalton on the day break started, full of actual joy and happy feelings.

Those feelings quickly disintegrated when he reached the doorway of the Dalton common room in time to observe Kurt singing a flirty rendition of “Baby It’s Cold Outside” with Blaine. Carson stopped cold and just watched as his worst nightmare unfolded before his very eyes. Blaine was clearly flirting with Kurt, and Kurt was obviously enjoying it. It was terrifying. Not to mention that the song choice was creepy as fuck.

“For the record, you were much better than that girl’s gonna be,” Blaine said as they finished singing.

“Ahem,” Carson cleared his throat to announce his presence, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

“Carson!” Kurt exclaimed, flushing as he noticed him standing there. “You’re early! Blaine and I were just-“

“He was helping me practice my song for a performance I have coming up,” Blaine interrupted him, flashing Carson his smile.

“I can see that,” Carson said. “If you don’t mind, Barry, I’m here to pick up Kurt and take him home for Christmas, so…” he nodded slightly toward the door he had just entered from, flashing Blaine a smile of his own that was more gritted teeth than actual smile and hoping he took the hint to get lost.

Blaine cleared his throat. “Right. Well…um…ok. I’ll see you after the break, Kurt,” he said turning to Kurt and patting him on the shoulder. Carson glared at him behind his back. You have five seconds to get your hands off of him, dwarf….ok good.

Blaine nodded at Carson and exited the room, leaving the twins alone. Kurt’s cheeks were still red, and Carson felt a surge of jealousy.

“Baby It’s Cold Outside? Really? The classic holiday date rape anthem?” Carson asked as he helped Kurt gather his already packed bags, which were settled up against one of the couches in the common room.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “I was just helping him, Carson. He needed to practice.”

“Mmm-hmm. Practice. Practice drugging you and taking advantage of you, as the lyrics would suggest,” Carson mumbled as they walked through the halls and out into the parking lot.

“Oh my god, Carson, it’s just a song,” said Kurt, exasperated. “He doesn’t like me like that, trust me. And you know what? I wouldn’t mind if he did. Like me, I mean. But he doesn’t, obviously, and so you really don’t have to worry as much as you do.”

Carson sighed and nodded, determined not to let Blaine darken his joyous Christmas mood. After all, he had so much time with Kurt to look forward to.

“Fine. Ok. I just worry. And I still don’t trust him.”

“Noted, Carson,” said Kurt. “And as always, allow me to point out that you worry entirely too much. Now can we please go home?”

**********

Christmas break was wonderful. Kurt loved having the opportunity to just be home and spend time with his friends and family, especially Carson, who pretty much never left his side. He missed him so much when he was away that sometimes it actually physically hurt. Dalton was a good school, and he liked being around Blaine so much (even if he was beginning to fear that Blaine would never get the hint that he liked him), but he missed being with Carson every day.

Kurt had thought that maybe being at Dalton and away from Carson would help suppress those certain feelings toward him that he definitely shouldn’t have been having.  Sometimes he thought it might actually be working, especially when he was around Blaine and felt the same sorts of things toward him, but the feelings for Carson were definitely still stronger, much to Kurt’s dismay.

Love was confusing.

He wished he could have suppressed the insane wave of jealousy that passed through him when he got invited to a last-minute New Years’ party at Santana’s house and Carson had eagerly insisted on accompanying him.

“Why would you want to go?” Kurt asked, fearing Carson’s reasoning. He had a feeling it had a lot to do with the fact that it was Santana’s party and it would give Carson an excuse to be around her. “Parties aren’t your thing.”

“I…I just do,” said Carson. “Can’t I spend as much time with you as possible before you have to go back to school? Pretty soon I won’t be able to see you as much.”

“But there’s teens and alcohol and popular music at this party,” said Kurt as he quickly threw together an outfit to wear. “All the things you hate.”

“I don’t care,” said Carson. “I’ll deal. “

Of course he’ll deal. God, WHAT does he see in Santana that he’s willing to go to a party, of all things, just to be around her? I don’t get it.

“Fine,” said Kurt as he stripped off his shirt to change it. “But you’re gonna hate it.”

Kurt was wrong. Carson didn’t hate it. Because Carson discovered the alcohol soon after arriving and was apparently having a fucking blast.

“Are you planning on drinking?” he had asked Kurt as they walked up Santana’s driveway.

“Not really. Alcohol and I have a very hateful relationship after what happened with Miss Pillsbury last year. Why, are you worried some mysterious guy will come rob me of my virtue if I have a taste of vodka?” asked Kurt.

“No, actually, I just wanted to know, because if you wanted to drink then I won’t. Because someone has to drive us home,” said Carson. “And you know I’d rather die than risk you becoming a splattered, bloody mess on the pavement.”

“Of course,” said Kurt. “In that case, no, I’m not planning on drinking. You have at it.”

And Carson had. Boy, had he. Kurt couldn’t help but remember the one and only time he had ever seen Carson get drunk. He had climbed onto the roof and wobbled around, loudly proclaiming that he could fly. And then he’d actually tried to fly. Thankfully, he was much too drunk to do much besides bend his knees a little. Kurt had almost had a heart attack. He’d never rushed inside the house and up the stairs so fast in his life, but within seconds he had the upstairs window open and was yanking Carson back inside the house by the back of his shirt, yelling at him to never do that again.

Apparently, a drunk Carson in a room full of people was an entirely different animal from a drunk Carson by himself. Not only was he dancing around to the music blaring from Santana’s stereo system (and very clumsily, at that), he was actually being somewhat social, walking around with his red party cup and patting random members of New Directions on the back, sometimes giving them slurred, rather incoherent compliments.

“You…y’know what, Ro…Ra…Ruuchel, you know what? You shouldn’t be so har’ on yurself,” Carson was saying, one arm slung lazily around the shoulder of Rachel, who looked extremely confused and slightly uncomfortable, much to Kurt’s amusement. “ You…you’re not that irritating. Like…I’m sure there’s just, like, dozens of people who’re slightly more irritating than….than you. I can’t….can’t think of any ri’now,  but…know what, I’ll get back to you.”

Ok, so maybe they were also backhanded compliments. Kurt watched as Rachel looked around, possibly waiting for someone to come and rescue her, but Carson just wandered off and started pouring more alcohol into his cup.

“Uuum…Carson?” Kurt asked, hurrying over to his twin’s side. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“Huh…noooo, Kuuuurt. No. I…this shit is some good shit, Kurssey, lemme tell you,” Carson slurred, waving his cup around. “I feel gooood.”

Kurt was about to protest that he wouldn’t be feeling quite so good in the morning if he kept drinking like that, but he was interrupted by Santana turning the speakers off and standing in the middle of the Lopez living room, waving her own red cup in the air.

“Everybody get in here, we’re playing 7 Minutes In Heaven!” she exclaimed, not a sign of a slur in her voice even though she had probably drunk more than Carson had by that point. “All you losers have to play, so let’s go. Boys in a circle on the floor, girls up against the wall. You too, Hummels,” she said, waving her cup in Kurt and Carson’s direction. “Get your fine asses over here. You don’t get to sit out and stare at us like those creepy bitches from The Shining.”

Kurt gaped at her. 7 Minutes in Heaven? Was she kidding? Ugh, I swear to god if she gets paired up with Carson I will yank the extensions right out of her hair.

“Woooo!” Carson exclaimed, rushing to join the rest of the teens in the living room, to Kurt’s astonishment. What the hell? He was most definitely drunk, because there was no way in hell he would ever agree to play anything with the glee club while sober, much less something like 7 Minutes In Heaven. Unless…unless he was excited because he could possibly be paired with Santana. Kurt hung his head and sighed. Shit.

“Kuuuuuurt, over here! O’er here!” Carson called, patting the empty bit of floor beside him and flashing Kurt a wide smile that showed all his teeth. “Come sit with meeee.” Kurt reluctantly walked over and sat down. He didn’t particularly want to play this stupid game, but he also didn’t want to leave Carson alone to play it, either. Not to mention that he couldn’t believe that Carson was actually approving of Kurt playing it, considering how overprotective he always was. Clearly, alcohol lightened him up a lot. Oh well, Kurt thought. If Carson ended up paired with Santana, then maybe Kurt could think of some way to-

“Nuh-uh, Kurt,” Santana chided, shaking her head at him from her spot against the wall beside Brittany. “You come stand with the girls.”

Kurt glared at her. “I’m a guy, Santana.”

Santana shrugged. “My party, my rules, Hummel.”

Carson frowned and pointed his cup at Santana accusingly. “Don’t…don’ be a bitch, Sa…Sandy….Sat…Saltina,” he said, his other hand patting clumsily at Kurt’s shoulder. “Kur’s not a girl.”

Santana sighed. “Look, there’s only five girls and there’s seven guys. The pairings will be uneven if one of you doesn’t join the girls’ team, so to speak. And since Kurt’s always doing that anyway…”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Fine. But I’m not doing anything with my partner, just so you’re all aware. I refuse.”

Santana smiled at him evilly. “We’ll see. Ok, I have this bottle here,” she said, holding up an empty bottle from earlier in the evening. “All us girls, and Kurt, are going to take turns spinning the bottle in the middle of the circle of boys. Whoever it lands on is our partner, and once everyone’s paired up we take turns in my mom’s linen closet. It’s huge. Oh, and you get who you get and you don’t bitch,” she said threateningly. “That goes for all of you.”

Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. It was going to be a loooong evening. He prayed to a god he didn’t even believe in that Carson got paired with someone other than Santana. Anyone else. Even Rachel, even if Carson would hate that. He just didn’t think he could handle the idea of Santana alone in a closet with Carson for seven minutes with her well-manicured claws on him. Carson was drunk as hell. Who knew what could happen?

One by one, the girls took their turns spinning the empty bottle in the middle of the boys’ circle until the potential pool of partners was dwindling down. “Your turn, Hummel,” Santana crowed delightedly as Quinn handed Kurt the bottle after taking her turn and ending up with Artie. “Come on, spin that bottle.”

Kurt rolled his eyes and grabbed the bottle from Quinn, stalking into the middle of the circle and sitting down. “This is dumb,” he complained as he carefully set the bottle on its side and realizing as he did so that he could possibly be paired with Carson. His twin had yet to be picked, and Kurt couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of this before. A part of him kind of hoped he would end up paired with him, if only because it would prevent Carson from being partnered with Santana.

“Spin!” Santana yelled from her spot against the wall. “We ain’t got all night. Come on!”

“Ok, ok, calm down, Satan,” said Kurt, sighing and closing his eyes as he gave the bottle a good spin, hoping for the best, or at the very least hoping that it wouldn’t end up pointing at Finn, who also had yet to be picked. That would be so very awkward, not to mention that Carson would hate it once he heard about it while he was sober. He heard the bottle spin and then stop, and he reluctantly opened his eyes.

The bottle was pointing straight at Carson.

Kurt was pretty sure his heart stopped right then and there as every bit of blood in his body apparently decided that this was an awesome time to rush to his face. He could practically feel the heat radiating off his cheeks. The room fell into complete silence for a minute as everyone digested the results of his bottle spin, and then Kurt heard Santana cackling across the room. “Oh, this is too good. Ok, Hummels are paired together!”

“Oh, come on Santana, you can’t make them partner up together,” protested Sam. “They’re brothers. That’s just wrong, man.”

“Nope, sorry,” said Santana gleefully. “Rules are rules. Besides, they don’t have to even do anything. They can either get their sweet twin kisses on in there, or they can sit and do absolutely nothing. Their choice.”

“I kind of want to watch them make out,” said Brittany.

Carson seemed to finally register what was going on at that moment and looked confused. “I’m…I go in there with Kurt?” he asked, and it sounded as if his voice lilted slightly at the end of the question, as though he didn’t think it was an entirely horrible idea.

“But-“ Sam started to protest.

“No, everybody calm down. It’s fine,” said Kurt, a little too quickly and eagerly. While Santana and Sam had been arguing, he had been thinking over this turn of events. He thought about having the opportunity to be alone with Carson like that, where the nature of the game dictated that everyone expected them to do something. This might be the only chance Kurt would ever have to kiss Carson, if he’d let him, and he’d have the safety net of it being “on a dare.”

Plus, even if they didn’t end up doing anything, if he went into the closet with Carson, it meant that Santana didn’t. Her and Brittany were the only ones left who had yet to take their turn at the bottle, and Kurt didn’t like the odds of her landing on his brother. Carson was really uninhibited right now, and Kurt was sure he’d absolutely love a chance to spend seven minutes alone with Santana. The very thought made Kurt want to throw up.

“It’s fine,” Kurt said again. “Besides, if we don’t, all of you are just going to say that we’re chicken and then make fun of us all night, so we might as well just do it. What do you think, Carson?”

Carson looked like he was still processing the news, but a small smile formed on his lips. “Yeah…yeah, s’fine. Seven minutes w’Kurt. Awesome.”

“See? Kurt’s cool with it, and Walter Cronkite over there is too drunk to care,” said Santana smugly. Thankfully, everyone’s attention was distracted from Kurt and Carson momentarily as the girls finished getting their partners.

“Ok,” said Santana once everyone had a partner. “Let’s get this show on the road. Linen closet out in the hall is the designated room, and the rest of us hang out in here while you’re in there. I will be keeping the time, and I may or may not give you advance warning before I open the door on your asses after your seven minutes are up. Depends on how charitable I’m feeling. So, with that in mind, let’s go. Twinsies first,” she said, grinning mischievously at Kurt and Carson. “Unless, of course, you’ve decided you’re too chicken after all.”

Kurt glared at her. “No, Satan, I think we’re good,” he said, helping Carson to his feet and taking his arm before he really could chicken out. “We’ll see you in seven minutes.”

“Have fun in there!” Santana said as she led them out into the hall and into the closet, her eyes lingering on Carson for a second before flicking back to Kurt. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That leaves us with quite the array of options, doesn’t it,” Kurt mumbled as she shut the door behind them.

Now what? He thought as his eyes adjusted to the dark of the closet. For a linen closet, it was actually pretty roomy, but it was still cramped enough that there was barely an inch or two of space between Kurt’s body and Carson’s. Kurt could feel himself blushing again, and he thanked his lucky stars that it was too dark and Carson was too drunk for it to be noticed.

“So, um….” Kurt began, wondering what the hell they were supposed to do. Now that he was actually in this situation, it seemed like way less of a good idea than it had out in Santana’s living room. “I guess….I guess we’re supposed to kiss or something. I mean, it’s no big deal or anything. We kissed all the time when we were kids, this….this would be no different. But if you don’t want to, we could just stand here until Santana lets us out.”

Even in the dark, he could see Carson peering at him curiously. “I…you…kiss?” he asked. “Kiss….kiss you?”

Kurt bit his lip, his heart suddenly pounding in his ears. “Well, I mean, it’s just a dare, and we don’t have to-“

He suddenly realized that Carson’s face was a lot closer to his own than it had been a few seconds ago, and his heart went from pounding to jackhammering as he struggled to breathe normally. “We don’t have to,” he said again, his voice trailing off. “I…we could just…”

Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion. Before he even registered what he was doing, Kurt was closing the remaining distance between himself and Carson, and then….

And then there it was. Kurt’s eyes were closed and his lips were on Carson’s and he was….oh god….he was really doing it. He was kissing him. Kissing. He was kissing Carson. And it felt wonderful, like a huge relief after wanting to do it for so long and repressing the desire at every turn.  Granted, he’d never imagined doing this in a dark closet with Carson intoxicated and almost the whole glee club just a few rooms away, but still. Despite all of that, he still felt his stomach turn to mush and saw stars exploding behind his eyes as he hungrily kissed his twin. He had no idea if he was even doing this right, but it felt too good for him to really care.

“Mmmph,” Carson  mumbled against Kurt’s lips, and Kurt broke from the kiss to look into his face.

“Oh god, Carson, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I wasn’t…I didn’t think.” With his eyes now adjusted to the dark, he could see that Carson’s eyes were hooded and blown almost black, and he was looking at Kurt with the strangest expression on his face.

“Kurt…I…” he began, as if he wanted to say something more. “I lo….I….”

Clearly, he was struggling to say whatever it was. Kurt didn’t have time to think about that, though, because suddenly Carson’s lips were back on his, their bodies were touching, and they were kissing again. Carson’s teeth were nipping at Kurt’s bottom lip slightly, and Kurt felt a shiver course through his body at the sensation. His senses were overtaken, his entire world reduced to Carson and Carson’s lips, and most importantly, Carson’s lips on his. Carson was kissing him now, and Kurt tried not to think about the fact that his twin was drunk and probably didn’t even fully comprehend what he was doing right now, because it felt so good.

Kurt didn’t know how or when it happened, exactly, but eventually Carson’s lips left his mouth and wandered down to his jaw, planting small kisses along there before traveling further down. Kurt felt him settle at a spot just below Kurt’s ear and begin to suck, and Kurt couldn’t stop the loud moan that escaped his mouth at the feeling. Oh god, what if everyone heard that, and oh….shit, that’s going to bruise, isn’t it…I’m going to have a hickey, oh god, I can’t….

“Carson,” he panted, pushing lightly at Carson’s arms. “Carson…oh….Carson, no. S-s-stop.”

Carson’s lips immediately left his neck and he backed as far away as he could, considering there wasn’t much space to move around. “What…what’s wrong?” he asked, clearly trying his best to talk without slurring. “Are you ok?”

Kurt looked at him for a second, considering. Was he ok? Well, aside from the fact that he was making out with his own brother in a closet where everybody probably knew they were doing it.

Exactly, he thought to himself. Who cares, really? This is what you’ve wanted for so long, Kurt. Do you really want to end it early because of what your friends will say?

He smiled at Carson and took a deep breath. “I’m fine. I’m just fine,” he said, grabbing the back of Carson’s head and colliding their lips together again as he backed Carson up against a shelf full of towels. His hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they roamed over Carson’s chest, pushing the open hoodie aside and feeling the developing muscle through his twin’s thin shirt. It felt fantastic. Carson moaned into his mouth and Kurt felt one of his hands settle on his hip, the other traveling down his back until it settled on his ass.

Oh god! He’s touching my ass, oh shit. Kurt couldn’t even breathe. He moved his lips, kissing his way down until they were at the place where Carson’s neck met his shoulder. He gave a tentative suck at the skin, and Carson gasped, the hand on Kurt’s ass squeezing it through the tight denim.

“Kurt,” he whined, and it sounded so much like the noises he made whenever he had a sex dream that Kurt could feel himself getting hard in his jeans.

Oh shit, oh god, he can probably feel that, Kurt thought in a panic, trying to put some distance between their groins. He was unsuccessful, considering that there was literally nowhere for him to go, and he felt something hard poking into his thigh that definitely wasn’t his own dick. Carson was apparently enjoying this just as much as he was.

“Carson…mmph…” he groaned against his twin’s neck, sucking at the skin again, harder this time. Carson moaned and threw his head back, exposing more of his skin for Kurt to explore. Kurt moved his lips around, sucking a kiss into the skin every few inches before returning to Carson’s mouth, kissing him much deeper than he had up to this point. He wanted so badly to say “I love you,” but he didn’t. He couldn’t take his lips off Carson’s long enough to form the words.

And then every coherent thought left his brain as he felt Carson’s hand that had been on his hip slowly travel downwards until his fingers were playing at the waistband of Kurt’s jeans.

“Mmmm,” he moaned desperately as Carson’s fingers brushed up against Kurt’s arousal over his jeans, and Kurt swore he felt the world exploding. He kissed him hungrily and bucked his hips into Carson’s hand.

And then suddenly the room was filled with a bright light as the door swung open and Santana stood in the doorway, gaping at them.

Shit.

“Santana!” Carson exclaimed, his cheeks flushing a brilliant shade of red. “I…we…um…we were just...”

Santana crossed her arms across her chest and raised her eyebrows at them as she took in their flushed expressions and messy hair. “I have a pretty good idea what you were doing,” she said. “I have to say…that’s pretty hot.”

“Well…it….it was a dare, and….the rules…we…” Carson stammered.

Kurt felt his face falling as Carson desperately tried to make excuses in front of Santana. Of course he is, he thought sadly. Of course. He likes her.

Santana rolled her eyes. “God, Hummel, chillax, will you? I get it. You’re hot, Kurt’s hot, you’re drunk, sometimes shit happens and you end up making out with your brother. Who among us doesn’t have an illicit encounter or two under our belts, right? Although, I have to say, I still find this totally hilarious and will definitely make fun of you for it for the rest of your lives. By the way, Diane Sawyer, your hand is still on Kurt’s ass.”

Carson quickly removed his hands from Kurt and backed away, looking more flustered than ever.

“Anyway, Kurt, it was supposed to be mine and Puckerman’s turn next, but apparently he’s disappeared to go score more booze,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s entirely possible we won’t see him for the rest of the evening. So I’m just gonna borrow your brother, if you don’t mind,” she said, trying to push Kurt out of the door.

What the hell? Over my dead body, Satan.

“What the hell, Santana? No! He’s drunk as hell, and I’m not going to let you take advantage of him,” Kurt protested, dragging his feet.

“Oh relax, Hummel, calm your balls. I’m not going to break him or anything,” Santana said. “I just need a warm body.” She gave him a final shove out of the door and shut it behind him.

Kurt slapped his hand against the closed door, jiggling the handle. “Santana, let him out!”

“I will in seven minutes, hon!” she called from behind the door. Kurt didn’t even know what to feel.

He’s in there. Alone. With Santana. And he’s probably going to love it, he thought, flushing at the memory of Carson in the middle of a sex dream. Or hell, Carson five minutes ago as Kurt was attacking his neck with his lips. This isn’t fair. She can’t do this to me. I…I finally got something I wanted. She can’t take it from me like this. Who the fuck does she think she is?

He wanted to run away and forget this was happening. He also wanted to pound the door down and rescue Carson from her clutches. He didn’t do either of those things.

He settled for leaning his ear against the door, trying to make out what was going on in there. Unfortunately, the music in the other room, along with the laughter and chatter of the other kids, made it almost impossible to hear anything.

And then he heard it. An unmistakable moan coming from Santana.

And his heart broke into a million pieces. Especially when Santana finally emerged from the closet with mussed hair and a huge smile directed in Kurt’s direction.

He wondered if it was possible to die of a broken heart.

**********

Carson slumped against the shelf full of towels, trying to make out what the hell had just happened. What was still happening. He remembered kissing Kurt (and oh my GOD, that was just what he had been waiting for his entire life….). He remembered Santana coming in and…pushing Kurt out? And now she was all up in his face.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his head swimming.

“Calm down, Hummel. Just relax. You won’t even have to do anything. I’ll do all the work. No need to thank me,” she said. And then there were lips on his jaw. They were soft lips, but they were also lips he knew he didn’t want on him.

“What…what the fuck…eew, no, get off me,” he protested, pushing at her arms.

“Seriously? Come on,” said Santana, leaning in again. Carson pushed her harder, with all the strength he could muster (which wasn’t a lot, since he was still very drunk). It was enough to get her to stop, though.

“I said…said no,” he said, rubbing his head. She gave him a disbelieving look and raised her eyebrows.

“So let me get this straight,” she said. “You were more than eager to come in here and make out with your own brother. Which, judging by the impressive bulges in your pants, you were enjoying quiiiite a bit. You would do that, but you won’t make out with me?”

Carson didn’t say anything. His head hurt. He wished she would stop talking. Or leave. Yes. Leaving would be awesome.

Santana sighed and crossed her arms. “Fine. But I’m at least going to make it sound good. I have a reputation to uphold, you know,” she said.

Oh my god, will you PLEASE just stop talking, I can’t….Kurt….I want Kurt.

He had no idea, really, what was happening for the next few minutes. Santana started banging her fists on the walls and periodically moaning. Carson seriously thought she was having a mental breakdown or something. Then she stopped, attacked her hair briefly with her fingers, and opened the closet door, smiling at Kurt before heading down the hallway toward the living room. Kurt entered the closet, a weird expression on his face that Carson couldn’t read. He didn’t really care. All that mattered was that it was Kurt.

“Kurt,” he groaned, reaching his arms out toward him. “Kurtie.”

Kurt reluctantly entered Carson’s outstretched arms and gave him a tentative hug.

“Can we go home now?” Carson asked. He felt Kurt nod against him.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go home.”