The week of Nationals arrived, and to say that Kurt was nervous as hell would have been the understatement of the century. Not about the actual competition, though. They had actually chosen a set list ahead of time this time and rehearsed it, so he figured they were as prepared as they could be. Besides, he knew there wasn't any use anymore in being nervous about the glee club's competitions, since the outcome of those always seemed to be based more on pure luck than on anybody's efforts. No, he was actually nervous because this Nationals trip would involve Blaine and Carson being confined to the same living space for two nights, and Kurt had the uneasy feeling that this wasn't going to turn out well. He had no idea what they were going to do about the sleeping arrangements. Blaine would want to sleep with Kurt, and not only was Kurt not sure he was comfortable with that (actually, he was definitely sure he wasn't comfortable with that), but there was no way Carson was going to sit back and allow it. The potential for things to get ugly was very, very high. Not to mention that the sheer tension between Blaine and Carson would probably be thick enough to cut with a knife. In short, Kurt looked forward feverishly to Nationals being over and done with.

The first battleground was the bus ride to Chicago. Kurt had been the first to board the bus and had carefully chosen his window seat (the better to combat motion sickness). He'd then watched with a knotted stomach as his brother and his boyfriend practically knocked each other down in their hurry to take the empty bit of seat beside him. Carson won, giving Blaine a hard elbow in the ribs for good measure, and plopped down next to Kurt. He raised his eyebrows at Blaine, as if to say 'What are you going to do about it, hobbit?"

"I was going to sit there, Carson," Blaine said pointedly. Carson shrugged.

"And?" he said dismissively. "I got here first, Brett. There's an empty seat right over there," he added, pointing to the seat across the aisle from theirs.

Blaine crossed his arms. "Well, what if Kurt wants to sit with me?"

"Mmm, and what if he doesn't? Ever think of that?" asked Carson sweetly. Blaine looked over at Kurt, who wished he could just disappear.

"Kurt?" asked Blaine, one eyebrow raised as he waited for Kurt's decision. Kurt sighed and bit his lip uncomfortably.

"Carson was here first, Blaine," he said quietly. Carson gave Blaine a triumphant smile and an exaggerated goodbye wave as Blaine rolled his eyes and sat huffily down in the empty seat. Kurt was torn during the entire ride between thoroughly enjoying Carson's protective arm around him and feeling guilty that Blaine was sitting alone.

Things looked up a little when they arrived in Chicago. Carson was pretty much over the moon to be there, and his excitement was so contagious that Kurt couldn't help but grin.

"Kurtsie, this is going to be my home for four years!" Carson exclaimed excitedly as they got off the bus and dragged their bags through the hotel lobby and up to one of the two rooms Mr. Schue had reserved for them (boys in one room, girls in the other). "This is gonna be heaven! I'll finally be free of that one horse town and be on my way to be somebody!" He squealed as he dropped his bag on the ground and wrapped Kurt in a hug, bouncing up and down on the heels of his sneakers. Kurt smiled and ruffled his hair.

"You're already somebody," he reminded him. "You're my big brother, and I love you just the way you are."

"Mmm-hmm, and you'll love me even more when I'm the editor of the New Yorker."

"I'll be proud," replied Kurt. "So very proud. But I won't love you more, because it's impossible to love you any more than I do now."

Carson gave him a small smile. "You're the best, Kurtsie."

"I try."

Blaine came into the room then and possessively looped his arm through Kurt's, pulling him away from Carson and steering him away. "Come on, Kurt. We have lots of practicing to do for "Dashboard," and the sooner we all start practicing the better we'll be at the competition."

The club spent the better part of the next five hours in the girls' room practicing their choreography, until everyone was utterly exhausted and decided to call it a night. They were going first the next day at the competition, after all, and would need their sleep. The only problem, Kurt thought, was where everyone would sleep.

Carson ended up deciding the solution to that problem. He was already in his pajamas and in one of the beds when Kurt emerged from the bathroom.

"Come on, Kurtsie," he said, patting the empty space to his side. "Plenty of room for you." Kurt smiled nervously as he climbed into bed beside his twin, wondering if he was going to have to deal with a whining Blaine. As it turned out, he didn't. Blaine didn't say a single word when he came out of the bathroom. He did, however, fix Carson with a hard stare before rolling his eyes and sliding under the sheets on Kurt's other side. Kurt was literally sandwiched in a bed between two men, and while he may have had a fleeting fantasy or two involving that in his wilder moments, he hadn't exactly pictured it quite like this.

"Just so you're aware, hobbit," said Carson fiercely as he wrapped his arms around Kurt in their usual sleeping position, "I'm right here, and I don't like you. So keep in mind that if your hands venture anywhere outside of your own personal bubble of space during the night, I will not hesitate to demonstrate to you exactly what barbed wire on your fun parts feels like. Are we clear?"

Blaine scoffed and lay perfectly straight on his back, folding his hands across his chest. Kurt settled snugly into Carson's arms and sighed, relieved. Maybe the night wouldn't be so disastrous. It would be full of tension, yes, but not disastrous. He was about to close his eyes when he heard Carson snort.

"Wait a minute," Carson said, his voice full of laughter. "Hold on a fucking minute. You wear hair gel to bed?" He snorted again and let out a cackle of laughter as Blaine fixed his eyes on the ceiling, looking extremely pissed off.

"Carson," Kurt said exasperatedly. "Come on. Be good."

"I'm sorry," said Carson. "I just...oh my god, that shit is hilarious. I'm surprised you even have hair anymore, Bilbo."

"I'm surprised you are able to sleep with such a huge chip on your shoulder," retorted Blaine. "Doesn't it get awfully uncomfortable for you?"

"Not nearly as uncomfortable as that cement gelmet must be for you," said Carson.

"Shut up and go to bed," mumbled Puck sleepily from his pull-out cot across the room.

"Guys, please?" Kurt pleaded. "I know this is difficult, but can't...can't we just go to sleep?"

"Yes, Kurtsie," said Carson, holding him tight and lightly nuzzling into his neck as he placed a soft kiss there. "Good night."

"Goodnight," Kurt said, blushing at the kiss. "And goodnight, Blaine."

"Night," said Blaine, closing his eyes again. Kurt sighed and settled once more into Carson's arms. He wasn't sure he could take much more of Carson and Blaine's sniping at each other. Plus, he wasn't comfortable at all sleeping next to Blaine. He wanted to just sleep with Carson without the added pressure of his boyfriend being right there. As he drifted off to sleep, he hoped that this weekend would go by quickly.

He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep when he awoke, but it couldn't have been very long, because the room was still dark and everyone around them was asleep, some of them snoring. Kurt's eyes slowly fluttered open as he tried to figure out what had woken him. He felt Carson's arms around him, gone a little slack from sleep, but still firm and secure. He smiled sleepily and burrowed deeper into the comforting embrace, and that was when he felt it. There was a hand on top of his hand, moving it around, and something warm and hard was underneath it. Quiet little gasps were filling the air. It took Kurt several seconds to put together what was happening, but he was horrified when he figured out that it was Blaine's hand on top of his, and more importantly, it was Blaine's clothed dick under his hand. His very hard dick. That was why he had woken up. Blaine had been using his hand to jerk himself off with.

"Blaine!" Kurt hissed, flustered and panicked as he tried to jerk his hand away. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm sorry," Blaine whispered. "I woke up a little...excited."

"So take care of it in the bathroom, Blaine!" Kurt retorted, trying again to free his hand from Blaine's grip. "I'm not going to jerk you off with Carson right here, and I can't believe you thought I would be ok with this!"

"Kurt, come on, please?" Blaine asked, his hand still covering Kurt's as he pressed it against his erection. "I couldn't resist you, sweetheart, and I'm almost there."

"Blaine, no. Let go of my hand now!" Kurt hissed, yanking his hand as hard as he could, but Blaine's grip was strong.

"Just give me, like, ten seconds, Kurt. Please?"

"Oh my god, Blaine, no." Kurt made to yank his hand away again, but before he could he felt Carson's body leaning over his own. His twin's arm shot out in front of him and grabbed Blaine by the wrist of the hand that was covering Kurt's.

"Let go of him," Carson said in a low, gravelly voice. "Fucking now." Blaine let out a small whimper of pain and dropped his grip on Kurt's hand as Carson squeezed his wrist. Even in the dark, Kurt could see Carson's knuckles straining with the effort.

"Kurt, get up and get on the other side of me. Please," Carson said, his grip still tight on Blaine's wrist. Kurt wriggled free of Carson's arms and climbed over his twin's body, settling himself on the other side so that Carson was now in the middle. He really hoped that Carson wasn't about to make too much of a scene.

"Let go of my wrist," Blaine demanded in a loud whisper.

"No," said Carson. "I have some fucking words to say to you."

"Now."

"Ok, here's the deal, asshole," Carson growled, using his other hand to roughly cup Blaine's face and turn it to face him. "I'm fucking done with you and your predatory tendencies. I don't know if you're some kind of sex addict or if you just get a kick out of demanding sex from the unwilling, but it's assault and I'm not going to let you do it to my brother anymore. Are we fucking clear?"

"I wasn't assaulting him, and it isn't any of your business," retorted Blaine.

"I disagree, jackass. I think you trying to force Kurt to give you a handjob in a room full of his friends falls under the category of hurting him, and you hurting my baby brother most certainly is my business," replied Carson angrily. "I should kick your sorry ass until you're bleeding."

"Carson, please," whispered Kurt, gripping Carson's shoulders. "Don't...please."

"Don't worry, Kurt, I'm not going to do that," said Carson, his eyes still locked firmly on Blaine. "For right now, I'm just going to do this." He let go of Blaine's face and delivered a swift punch to his groin. Blaine's eyes shot open and he let out a silent scream of pain, his eyes filling with tears.

"Carson!" Kurt whispered fearfully. "Don't hurt him any more. Please. We have to perform in the morning." His twin looked at him and then turned his attention back to Blaine.

"That should solve your problem, fucker," Carson growled, letting go of Blaine's wrist and giving him one final glare. "Don't even look at him for the rest of the night. And tomorrow night you are not sleeping with us." He turned away from Blaine and wrapped his arms back around Kurt, who shakily burrowed into them, trying to mentally process what had just happened. He felt sorry for Blaine, who was laying on his back quietly gasping and whimpering, but he also felt a surge of love for Carson at the moment. It felt good to be protected and defended like that.

"Good night, Kurtsie," Carson whispered, kissing Kurt's ear. "Love you."

"Love you," Kurt returned. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, still feeling slightly guilty over Blaine's gasps of pain. The next time he opened his eyes, it was morning and Carson was shaking him gently awake.

"Kurtsie," Carson said softly, one hand on his shoulder. "Kurtsie, wake up, honey. We have to be at the theater in a little over an hour."

"Mmmph," Kurt mumbled, burying his face into his pillow. "Gimme five minutes."

"WHERE IS IT?" a voice suddenly yelled. Kurt's eyes flew open just in time to see Blaine stalking over to Carson, his face full of anger as the other boys in the room looked on with interest. "What did you do with it?"

"Do with what?" Carson asked innocently. Blaine gestured to his own head, making Kurt notice for the first time that his hair was in its naturally curly state.

"My hair gel, you jerk," he practically spat. "It's gone, it's the only thing missing from my suitcase, and I know you had something to do with that, so where is it?"

"How do you know I did anything with it?" asked Carson, crossing his arms and glaring at him. "Besides, don't you usually use your own ejaculate to glue your hair in place?"

"Give me my gel!" Blaine whined. "I know you took it!"

"Blaine, please calm down," Kurt said, sitting up in bed and pinching the bridge of his nose to try to stave off the headache he could feel approaching. "Carson, did you take his gel?"

"Don't tell me to calm down! I want my gel!" Blaine yelled.

"Don't yell at him," Carson said dangerously, stepping in front of Kurt protectively. "I don't have your fucking gel."

"But I bet you fucking know where it is," Blaine retorted.

"Dude, you just swore," said Finn in awe. "Neat!"

"Shut up, Finn!" Blaine screeched, stomping his foot angrily. "I want my hair gel and I want it now!" A knock at the door threw everyone into silence. Puck answered it to reveal Rachel on the other side, already in her performance costume and holding a small container in her hand.

"Blaine, I believe this is yours," she said, marching over to him and handing him the container. "I found it in Santana's makeup case when I went to borrow her eye shadow." She crossed over to talk to Finn as Blaine looked down at the container of gel and then back at Carson.

"Hey, I told you I didn't have it," said Carson smugly. Blaine looked like he wanted to start yelling again. Kurt wasn't sure whether to laugh or scold Carson.

"Carson," he began, unable to stop himself from letting out a small giggle. "Seriously?"

"Oh, yeah, wow, Carson acts like an ass and Kurt thinks it's funny," said Blaine sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "What a shock. Really. I'm so very surprised."

"Blaine, come on," Kurt said, giving him a small, pleading smile. "It was just a prank, and you have your gel back now. Can't we all just try to get along today? It's our last competition together."

"You know what, Kurt? Have fun defending your precious big brother Carsey. I'm going to do my hair," Blaine replied angrily, stalking off to the bathroom. Kurt sighed and looked up at Carson.

"Can you at least promise me no more practical jokes for the rest of the weekend?" he asked pleadingly.

"That depends entirely on whether or not he can promise me that he'll keep his hobbit hands to himself for the rest of the weekend," Carson replied. "Or better yet, for the rest of his natural life."

"Please?" Kurt begged. "I don't want to deal with him being angry the whole time." He unconsciously rubbed at his shoulder, where he knew there was a small bruise from the day before where Blaine had irritably squeezed him after Kurt had gotten a dance move wrong during their "Dashboard" practice. Thankfully, Carson hadn't seen it, and Kurt hoped he wouldn't.

"Fine. Ok," agreed Carson reluctantly. "I promise. No more pranks."

"Thank you," said Kurt with a smile as he got out of bed and hugged him. "Now come, before I get ready I want to do something with that hair of yours."

"But I should probably mention that I put about three teaspoons of Elmer's glue in that gel before I gave it to Santana," said Carson. "You know...just to clear the air."

Kurt felt that headache suddenly becoming much more real. It was going to be a very long day.

The rest of Nationals weekend passed by in a blur. Carson was happy, he guessed, that New Directions placed first and were the new reigning champions, but that was almost completely overshadowed by how pissed off he was at Blaine. He still could not believe that the other boy was such a sexual deviant as to pull what he'd pulled in that hotel bed, and he was so lucky that a quick punch in the dick and a hidden container of hair gel was all Carson had done to him. Had it not been a room full of witnesses on a school sponsored trip, Carson would happily have murdered him. It was a small victory for him to watch Blaine struggle to remove his glue-laced hair gel the next night, but not much. The icy cold glare Blaine shot his way when he finally (with the help of lots of water) removed all of it legitimately made Carson fearful for Kurt, and he was glad he'd arranged for Rory to take Blaine's spot in the bed for the second night. He absolutely couldn't understand why Kurt put up with Blaine, and he wanted so badly to know the answer. The one comforting thought he always turned to was that soon Kurt would get his NYADA acceptance letter and by the fall would be in New York, far away from Blaine.

If Carson was lucky, maybe he could even get his brother away from Blaine for the summer, as well. A friend Burt had made during his Congressional travels just so happened to be subletting an apartment in Chicago for a year, and as a graduation gift, Burt had informed Carson that the apartment was his, if he wanted it, so long as he moved in by the beginning of June.

"This way you won't have to live in the dorms," his father had said when he told him. "I know you don't, uh...well...that you're not really a people person and won't take well to sharing a room with someone besides Kurt. Plus, you'll have a whole summer to get to know the city before your classes start." Carson had been speechless, not knowing quite how to thank his dad and settling on a fierce hug. The only downside was that this would mean leaving Kurt much sooner than he wanted, which was why he was planning on asking Kurt to come with him and stay for the summer. He hadn't asked him yet, but he really hoped his twin would agree when he did. The thought of leaving him alone for the summer with Blaine made Carson want to throw up, and he wasn't sure he could really move so soon if Kurt didn't come along.

Now it was their last week of school, and Carson was feeling just slightly sentimental as he sat in the journalism classroom one afternoon, going through a stack of Muckrakers he had published over the years. The heart and soul of his high school existence, basically.

I'll miss you, buddy, he thought as he stared down at the stack and neatly arranged the papers so that their edges aligned. You sucked, but you're my legacy.

"Hey, Pulitzer," said a familiar voice. Carson looked up to see Santana leaning in the doorway, her arms crossed as she looked around the classroom. "Reflecting on all the years you wasted in this room?"

"Something like that," Carson answered. "What about you? Reflecting on all the years you wasted being a heartless ice queen?"

"No, not really," said Santana with a shrug as she walked inside and sat down at a desk. "I was a bitch, and I own that. No regrets."

"Um...thank you, by the way," said Carson in a rush. "For helping me hide the hobbit's hair shit in Chicago."

"No problem," said Santana. "He would have had to go on stage with his fro, if Trollberry hadn't found the damn stuff and returned it to him."

"Well, you tried, and anyway, I put glue in it, so...hey, you called her Trollberry!" said Carson with a smile. "I'm proud of you."

"Yeah, well, you're a bad influence," replied Santana. "So, have you asked Kurt to move with you for the summer yet?"

"Not yet," answered Carson quietly, fiddling absentmindedly with the papers in front of him. "I'm just...I'm afraid he'll say no."

"Trust me, he won't," said Santana confidently. "Boy has it bad for you."

"Sometimes, I almost think you're right," said Carson with a sigh. "But then I see him with Binton, and I just...I don't know. I guess I feel stupid for hoping. You know?"

"It's not stupid," said Santana. "Carson, I'm telling you. He has feelings for you. I wish you would listen to me."

"Like I don't want to? I'm just...I can't let myself get my hopes up. The disappointment if you're wrong would kill me," replied Carson. Santana gave him a long look and shrugged.

"Ok. Your life. Anyway, I'm here because I'm throwing a little graduation shindig at my house this weekend, and you're invited, of course," she said.

Carson looked at her warily. "You're not going to get me and Kurt drunk and have us make out again, are you?"

Santana raised her eyebrows. "I could, but I don't think I will. I've done all I can do to help you. Ball's in your court now, sweets. So, you coming or not?"

Carson sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll go."

"Great." Santana stood up and looked at him before crossing over to him and giving him an awkward hug. "I'm...I'm gonna miss you, Diane Sawyer," she said. "You were a breath of fresh air in this godforsaken place."

"Thanks, Santana," said Carson, gingerly hugging her back. "You too."

She broke from the hug and patted him on the shoulder before turning around and walking out of the classroom. Carson watched her go, shaking his head slightly. When did I turn into a hugger? I mean, hugging people other than Kurt, or Dad. Who am I?

His text message ringtone interrupted his thoughts and he picked up his phone to see a message from Kurt lighting up the screen.

Carsey, can you meet me in the choir room? It's really important, and I need you. -Kurtsie

Carson picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, dashing off a quick reply to Kurt as he exited the classroom. He wondered what was up. Maybe Kurt was practicing a song or something and wanted Carson's opinion.

"Hey. You." Carson stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned around to find Coach Sylvester walking toward him.

"Yeah?" he asked, confused.

"You're Porcelain's brother," she said. Carson rolled his eyes.

"Yeah," he said irritably.

"Well, I don't want to keep you from hurrying off to what I'm sure is a fascinating afternoon of writing an expose on cafeteria mystery meat, but I've got something to say to you real quick," she said. He looked at her curiously.

"Yeah?" he said. Apparently that was becoming his new favorite word.

"I've been meaning to tell you this for a while, but I kept getting distracted by my unadulterated hatred for Will Schuester," she said. "I know all about your little blackmail scheme to get submissions for your lame magazine."

Carson paled. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. How did she find out? I can't get in trouble for this now. Not when I'm so close to Northwestern.

He was formulating a protesting reply when she held up a hand to silence him and continued. "I know about it, and I gotta hand it to you, Porcelain Two. That's just underhanded enough to remind me of a young Sue Sylvester. If a young Sue Sylvester looked like a Keebler elf with an affinity for people clothes."

Carson didn't know what the hell to say. He just gaped for a minute before finally shaking his head. "Um...uh...thanks?"

"No problem," she replied. "Good luck at whatever internet scam college you're planning to attend."

"I'm going to Northwestern," he rebutted, but she was already gone down the hallway. Well, that was fucking weird. He shrugged and continued on his way to the choir room, finding Kurt standing in it, along with Finn and Rachel. All three looked nervous, but none more so than Kurt.

"Carson, thank god!" he exclaimed as Carson entered the room. He pointed to a stool in the middle of the room, on which sat three envelopes. "We're going to open our letters and I didn't want to open mine without you here."

"Wait, you got your letter?" asked Carson. "When?"

"Yesterday," replied Kurt. "I just didn't tell you right away. I was scared of what might be in it."

"Oh, Kurtsie," Carson said, crossing over to him and putting an arm around him. "I'm sure you got in." Kurt looked sick as he squeezed Carson's hand and exchanged nervous looks with Finn and Rachel.

"I'm seriously having trouble breathing right now," he said.

"Are you guys ready?" asked Rachel.

"I kind of want to wait," said Finn quietly.

"For how long?" asked Kurt.

"Forever," replied Finn. "I'm...just a couple more seconds. But this is the last moment before we know. After we open these envelopes, it's...it's gonna change our entire lives, no matter what's in it. Either way. I kind of want another minute with you guys here like this."

Kurt swallowed, and Carson felt the grip on his hand getting tighter. "So, who's first?"

"I'll go first," said Finn. "I've got a good feeling about it."

"Look," said Rachel as Finn picked up his envelope. "No matter what happens, we're all here for each other." She crossed over to Kurt's other side and took his arm, and Carson didn't even think to roll his eyes or order her away. He was too anxious about what was inside Kurt's envelope. They watched as Finn opened his and read the letter inside, his face falling as he did so.

"I didn't get in," he said. Carson couldn't really say he was surprised about that. Finn had applied to the Actor's Studio, for fuck's sake. What was he really expecting?"

"It's ok," said Rachel, leaving Kurt to go comfort Finn. "Please, somebody else just open theirs," said Finn dejectedly. Kurt sighed shakily.

"I'll go next," he said, picking his envelope up off the stool. Carson felt his own stomach knotting in anticipation as Kurt ripped it open.

"I'm here for you, Kurtsie," he said, placing his hands around Kurt's shoulders and squeezing affectionately. "No matter what it says, I'm here. I love you." Kurt smiled and nodded, removing the letter from the envelope and unfolding it carefully. Carson bit his lip and waited for the verdict.

"I didn't get in," said Kurt, sounding like he couldn't quite believe it. "I didn't get in."

"What?" asked Carson in absolute disbelief. "Wait...wait, no, that...there has to be some kind of mistake. You had to have gotten in. You nailed your audition, and...and..." He trailed off as Kurt sagged against him, clutching his rejection letter in his hand. Carson held him as Kurt's arms wrapped around his waist. He could tell his twin was trying not to cry.

"Your turn, Rachel," said Kurt. Rachel took her envelope and faced away from them as she opened it. Carson held Kurt and tried to keep his anger in check. It wouldn't do Kurt any good, and Kurt needed him right now.

I can't believe he didn't get in. What the fuck kind of school is that if they reject him after that flawless audition?

Rachel turned around then, an odd look on her face as she held her letter in her hands.

"I got in," she said.

Carson felt all his repressed anger shooting out of him all at once. "What the hell do you mean, you got in? How is that possible? You blew your audition and Kurt didn't. This isn't fair. The letters must have gotten switched somehow. You should have gotten rejected. You..." He felt one of Kurt's hands encircle his own and his twin's lips against his ear.

"Carson...Carsey, don't," he said. "Please don't."

So Carson didn't. He just stood there holding Kurt as Kurt congratulated Rachel flatly. He held him as Rachel expressed her regrets that Kurt didn't get in as well. He held him as both Rachel and Finn patted Kurt comfortingly on the shoulder and left the choir room, leaving the twins alone. That was when Kurt let go. He started sobbing uncontrollably, his face buried in Carson's shoulder as he soaked his hoodie through with tears. And Carson couldn't do anything to make it better for him. He was powerless to do anything except hold him tight, stroking his back comfortingly and whispering reassurances into his ear. He hated not being able to help Kurt. It was the worst feeling in the world. He was Kurt's big brother, damn it. He was supposed to be able to make everything alright.

"Shhh, it's ok, Kurtsie," he whispered soothingly as Kurt's sobs tapered off into sniffles. "Well, I mean, it's not ok, obviously. Actually it's complete bullshit."

"I don't understand, Carsey," Kurt sniffed. "I thought...I mean, I knew my audition probably wasn't the best they'd ever seen, but after Carmen gave me a good review, I thought that maybe...maybe I would make it. I let myself believe."

"I know, baby. It's bullshit," Carson repeated, stroking Kurt's hair with one hand. He didn't know what came over him in that moment. Maybe it was the feeling that it was him and Kurt against the world and always had been, or maybe it was the thought of leaving Kurt alone in Lima not only for the summer, but for a whole school semester now, as well. The very idea made him sick to his stomach, especially when he remembered that Blaine would be there, free to sink his claws into Kurt any time he pleased with Carson not around to keep him in check.

Whatever it was, it made him take a deep breath and hug Kurt slightly tighter before he carefully said the words he'd been wanting to say ever since he found out about the sublet apartment.

"Kurt...Kurtsie," he said, as Kurt hiccupped into his shoulder. "I know you're disappointed. I am, too. And I'm angry. This sucks, and it isn't fair. If anyone should be going to that school, it's you. But...but maybe it's...sort of ok. Maybe you...maybe you could come and live with me in Chicago until you can reapply. I mean...I'll have a whole apartment to myself, and I'd love to have you with me. You could practice living in a big city before you go to New York. And I know you had your heart set on NYADA, but maybe you could apply to other schools, too. I mean, New York is a big place, with a lot of schools that have musical theater programs. I can help you research them. NYADA isn't the only one. And it's clearly run by idiots, anyway, if they accepted Rachel and her constipation faces over you. Your audition was fucking flawless."

Kurt stopped sniffling and removed his face from Carson's shoulder, wiping his eyes delicately with a handkerchief he retrieved from his pocket. "That sounds wonderful, Carson," he said quietly.

"Yeah?" said Carson hopefully.

"Yeah," replied Kurt. "But...oh, Carsey, I can't. I can't go with you."

Carson's heart felt like it had sunk down into his stomach. "Why not?"

Kurt took a deep breath and looked into Carson's eyes with his tear-filled ones. "Carsey, if I go with you, I'll just be holding you back. You can't fully enjoy your experience if you're constantly worrying about me and how I'm adjusting. I'll stay here and go to New York in the spring, if NYADA will take me."

Carson shook his head. "Oh, Kurtsie, no. Why would you even think that? You wouldn't be holding me back at all, honey. If anything, having you around would make it better."

Kurt shook his head. "Carson, I...I just...I don't think that it's a good idea," he said, sounding as sad as Carson had ever heard him sound. He looked uncomfortably down at his feet and bunched his handkerchief in his hands. "For us to...I...I just...I would love it, I really would, you have no idea, but...I just...I can't. I'm really sorry."

Carson was surprised his heart hadn't fallen out by now as he listened to Kurt struggling to form words. The answer was as clear as day, even if Kurt wouldn't come right out and say it. He didn't want to come with Carson to Chicago because he was going to take the opportunity to spend more time with Blaine instead. Suddenly, everything hurt. Badly.

"I...I understand, Kurtsie," he said, willing himself not to throw up on the choir room floor. "I do. You have to do what...what feels right for you. I get it." He forced himself to give Kurt a small smile and hoped that it looked genuine, even though he could feel a crack forming down the center of his heart. "I just...I'm going to really miss you. That...that's all. I hate the thought of leaving you here all alone."

Kurt threw his arms back around him and hugged him tight. "I'll miss you, too. Being apart from you is going to suck, but we...we'll talk every day. We will. And Skype. And text and Facebook chat and everything. You won't ever be completely rid of me."

"I wouldn't ever want to be," said Carson, grateful that Kurt couldn't see the few tears that were forming in the corners of his eyes. "I want you to feel free to call or text or whatever any time you want. Any time. I don't care how late or early it is. And...if you ever want me to go and cut some bitches at NYADA, just say the word, and I'll do it."

He heard Kurt snort and suck in a breath. "You'll be the first one I call. Always."

Graduation came and went, and at long last, Carson was finally free of William McKinley High School. Other than his brief sentimentality over the Muckraker, he could honestly say he was happy and relieved to not be stuck in that prison of a school anymore. He had paid his dues, and now it was all behind him. His future was ahead, and it was so very bright. Of course, his happiness over his own future was dampened by the fact that he knew Kurt wasn't getting his. Not for awhile, anyway. Carson couldn't understand what the fuck was wrong with NYADA, or how the hell Rachel had gotten accepted when she had completely fucked up her audition. It wasn't fair, and it pissed Carson off. Why couldn't anything ever go right for Kurt? Why was he always being dealt these shitty hands in life? For fuck's sake, he lost the lead in West Side Story, he lost the race for student body president, and now he had lost his chance to live his dream. Carson couldn't help but feel guilty about that. He would gladly have traded places with Kurt if possible.

In fact, he was seriously considering not moving into that apartment at the beginning of the month. He wasn't sure he wanted to go if it meant leaving Kurt stuck in Lima with Blaine for an extra three months more than necessary. Especially since Carson was still trying to determine if Santana had been right all along. There was too much evidence for him to outright ignore anymore. Blaine hadn't been around in the days since graduation, and Kurt had been spending much more time with Carson. And, to put it mildly, there had been...well...tension. First of all, Carson had caught Kurt staring at him as he emerged shirtless from the shower several times. The first time he thought maybe he had been imagining things, but the second time he was quite sure he wasn't. Kurt was pretty blatantly staring, and had blushed and quickly looked away when he realized he'd been caught.

Secondly, they had almost had a repeat of the hallway incident one night as they maneuvered around the kitchen, each trying to make separate things (tea for Kurt, a sandwich for Carson). The small space they had to work with caused Kurt to trip and land right up against Carson, who caught him before he could fall. They had stood there for a minute, just staring at one another, and then Carson could have sworn that Kurt's face was inching ever so much closer to his, his lips parted as though he were going to kiss him. Carson was almost convinced it would have happened, if not for Sam walking in right that second, causing Kurt to scurry away and check on his tea.

But the thing that really got Carson thinking was found under their bed one night as Carson was attempting to retrieve a pencil he had dropped while writing in his journal. He found it under Kurt's side of the bed, where it had rolled next to Kurt's senior year scrapbook he'd been keeping since September. Carson smiled and glanced toward the closed bathroom door, where Kurt was taking a shower. He wasn't sure if he should be looking through the scrapbook, but he was really curious, and it was so adorable, with its jaunty cover that Kurt had decorated himself with cut-out paper shapes and glitter.

He won't mind if I just sneak a peek, Carson thought. Just a peek, and then I'll put it back. He began flipping through the pages, smiling as he saw the various themed pages that Kurt had filled with photographs of himself, Carson, and members of the glee club. There were photos from various performances in the choir room, photos from West Side Story, even a cute picture of Kurt covered in pasta from the food fight on the first week of school. Carson smiled and flipped one more page. He gasped out loud as he found an entire page filled with photos of him. There were pictures of him in his pencil costume, a photo of him at the assembly to announce the literary magazine, even a picture of him just sitting at his desk in the journalism classroom, gazing thoughtfully at his laptop. But the fact that there was en entire page dedicated to him wasn't what made him gasp. No, the cause of that was the very prominent card carefully glued onto the middle of the page. Carson recognized it instantly, because he had made it. It was the card that he had slipped into Kurt's locker for Valentine's Day. And there it was, sitting in the middle of a page that was full of nothing but photos of Carson, with a little red heart drawn next to it in marker.

That can't mean he knows, can it? Carson thought, his heart practically in his throat as he gently grazed his fingers over the card. I mean, I don't know...he could have just stuck it there for any reason. Doesn't mean he thought it had anything to do with me, right? …...Right? He wished he could stop the nagging feeling in his gut that no, it wasn't a coincidence that the card was put there.

He heard the water close off in the bathroom and hurriedly slipped the scrapbook back under the bed, briefly wondering as he climbed back under the sheets why there didn't seem to be very many photos of Blaine, and then deciding that he'd probably just missed them.

Maybe he has feelings for you, and maybe he doesn't, Carson thought to himself. But even if he does, he clearly has stronger ones for Bubby. He's dating him, not you. He's chosen him. I don't know WHY, I honestly don't. What can you really do? Nothing. You can do nothing but wait. And die slowly.

The next night was Santana's party, and Carson very nearly decided to skip it when he found out that Blaine was going. For some reason he hadn't expected him to go, because it was a graduation party and he'd figured it would only be for the graduating members of the glee club. He should have known the whole club would go, even the underclassmen. Not that he really minded everybody going, but he did mind Blaine going. The only reason Carson ended up not staying home was because he decided he'd rather die than let Kurt go without him and be around a drunk Blaine all night long.

Which was how he found himself sitting sulkily on Santana's living room couch, working on his fourth drink (or fifth, he really couldn't remember anymore) and watching Kurt and Blaine talking to Quinn across the room. He'd thought drinking would numb the pain of seeing them together. It hadn't. Blaine's arm was slung casually over Kurt's shoulder, and Carson was busy picturing now nice it would be to cut that arm off with a chainsaw when the doorbell rang.

"The hell is that?" Santana, stumbling toward the door and yanking it open. "What the...what the hell are you doing here, Preppy?" she asked. Carson looked up and groaned. Sebastian was standing in the doorway, wearing regular clothes and a smug smile on his face as he raised one eyebrow at Santana.

"Well actually, I was ambushed by Blaine online a few nights ago," he answered. "He wouldn't shut up about this party. Pretty much strongly suggested I should come. Doesn't seem like much of a party though," he added, looking around as though searching for something. His eyes lit up and his grin got ever so slightly bigger as his eyes landed on Carson. "Never mind. It's a party."

"The second you try to blind anyone, your ass is out," muttered Santana, closing the door behind him as he stepped inside.

"Don't be silly," said Sebastian brightly. "Like I've said before, I'm a changed man."

"Sebastiaaaan," slurred Blaine, leaving Kurt to walk over to him. "You...you came!" He grinned and patted Sebastian on the shoulder clumsily.

"You invited Sebastian?" asked Kurt, coming up behind him and looking incredibly put-out.

"Yeah...um...well...no...it sort of came up last time we chatted," said Blaine.

"You still chat to him?" asked Kurt shortly, his face taking on a look of irritation. "I didn't know you still kept in touch."

"We don't," said Sebastian quickly. "Not regularly. I was just online the other night minding my own business, when Blainers here started IMing me out of the blue, going on and on about this party, and how Santana's parties usually end up in drunken dares, and that I should totally come."

"Really?" said Kurt, a tight smile forming on his face. "How nice."

See, Kurt? You see? Bisquick is an asshole, baby. He invited Sebastian because he thought there'd be kissing games going on.

"Don't worry, Kurt, I'm not after your man," said Sebastian. "Not anymore. Actually, I came because I was kind of hoping Hot Hummel would be here," he added, his grin growing wider still as he turned to Carson. "And speak of the handsome devil, there he is." Kurt looked stricken. Blaine looked disappointed.

"Fuck off," Carson muttered, stumbling off the couch and waving his cup lazily in the air. "I'm only...only here for the drinks, and to supervise because Bin...Boney...Bingo...whatever...Booger tends to get wandering fuckin' hands when he's drunk," he said, glaring at Blaine. "And I've told you before, Meerkat, I'm not interested."

"He's not interested," Kurt echoed smugly to Sebastian, who shrugged.

"Whatever. I'm endlessly patient," he said. "He'll come around. Won't you, Carson?"

Kurt opened his mouth, probably about to say something snarky back to Sebastian, but was pulled away by Blaine, who rolled his eyes and practically stomped off. Carson glared after them and knocked back the rest of his drink in one gulp.

"Thirsty, are we?" asked Sebastian in an amused tone. Carson shot him the best bitch face he could muster under the circumstances and scoffed.

"None of your business," he muttered, stalking off in the direction of the liquor. He needed more alcohol if he was going to handle this crazy-ass night. He poured the contents of the nearest bottle into his cup, not particularly giving a shit what it was, and looked sadly across the room, where Blaine had dragged Kurt to go talk to Mercedes. Blaine's hand was on Kurt's back, and just the very sight of him touching Kurt was sending Carson into a simmering rage.

It's not fair. It's not fucking fair that he's a complete asshole and can put his filthy hands on him whenever the hell he wants when it's obvious that he doesn't even really care for Kurt all that much. Meanwhile, I love Kurt so much it's actually painful, and I'm NEVER going to get the chance to be with him like that. NEVER. Why? Why is that? What does the hobbit have that I don't? Why does Kurt want to be with him so badly that he's willing to overlook all the shitty things Benny does? He can't love Kurt like I love him. It's not possible. Nobody can.

And then Blaine's hand traveled lower, resting just above the swell of Kurt's ass, and Blaine turned his head. For the briefest of seconds, he looked straight at Carson and gave him a smug smile and a wink before turning back to Mercedes. As if to say "I have what you want and can't have, so deal with it."

Carson felt something break inside of him. He was so hurt and so angry, and he had no idea what to do with his feelings anymore. He honestly didn't know how Kurt felt about him, and maybe he never would, but if Kurt felt even half as much toward Carson as Carson felt for him, then part of Carson wanted Kurt to know how it felt to be him, even for just a minute.

So when he heard Sebastian come up behind him and start throwing out one of his stupid fucking pickup lines, Carson snapped. He turned to face the other boy and looked him right in the eye.

"Fine," he said. Sebastian blinked, clearly unprepared for that reply.

"What?" he asked.

"I said...I said fine. You really think you...you want me that bad? Then do it. Kiss me and get it over with," said Carson before he could lose his alcohol-infused nerve.

Sebastian just gaped at him. "...Really?"

Carson rolled his eyes. "Yes, for fuck's sake. Christ, you've been on my ass because you wanted my ass for months, so don't chicken shit out on me now. Kiss me."

Sebastian blinked and shook his head slightly. "For real. You're sure?"

"Yes," said Carson irritably. "Right here. Kiss me." He closed his eyes and waited for it, wanting to just get it over with and hoping that Kurt would see. He waited for what felt like an hour, and then he finally felt lips touching his own. It felt absolutely nothing like kissing Kurt. Kissing Kurt was magical and wonderful and made him feel butterflies and see fireworks. Kissing Sebastian was like...well, it was like mashing lips together. That was it. It didn't feel special. It didn't even feel particularly good. And all Carson was able to think about was Kurt. It felt wrong.

"Mmmph...'k, that's enough," he mumbled, pulling away and touching his finger to his own lips thoughtfully.

"Your lips taste like 'I told you so.' And vodka," said Sebastian.

"Fuck you."

"Ok, just what the hell is going on here?" said a voice. Carson turned to see Kurt stalking over to them, his face full of rage. "What the hell are you doing with your lips all over my brother, Craigslist?" Carson saw Blaine and Mercedes turn to watch the scene unfold before them, both of them looking shocked and Blaine looking pissed off on top of it.

"Calm down, Kurt," said Sebastian cooly. "I told you he would come around. He came around."

"Oh really?" said Kurt, his arms crossed fiercely across his chest as he stared Sebastian down. "He's also drunk as hell and can't really make informed decisions right now, or else he sure as fuck wouldn't have ever given you the time of day, so back. The hell. Off."

"You...you know what, Kurt?" asked Carson, turning to Kurt and looking him in the eye. "Why do you even...even care...why? What does it really matter to you? It's not like I'm dating anyone. I'm free to do whatever I want with whoever I want. If you can let Hobbit Dick put his hands and god knows what else on you at any time and nobody can say anything, then why am I not allowed? Hmm? Is there any particular reason why I shouldn't kiss someone else?"

Kurt looked down at the floor and bit his lip. Carson scoffed.

"Right. That's all the answer I need, then," he said, grabbing his cup and stalking off, hitting against Sebastian with his shoulder on his way.

"Carson," Kurt called after him. Carson ignored him.

"Kurt, forget him. Let him go. Come on," he heard Blaine say. "Dance with me."

"But-"

"Kurt. Come on."

Carson stumbled his way into the nearest bathroom and set his cup on the sink, running the water to splash some on his face. He hated absolutely everything right now, especially himself for snapping at Kurt and for actually kissing Sebastian. Ugh, what is WRONG with me? He really wished he could crawl in a hole and disappear, at least until the alcohol had worn off. Since he could not, he decided he'd at least try to apologize to Kurt.

My fucking life, he thought as he exited the bathroom, forgetting all about his cup. He searched around for Kurt and spotted him and Blaine still with Mercedes, Blaine's arm gripping him tightly around the waist, as if trying to keep him in place. Asshole. Sebastian was nowhere to be seen. Good.

"Ok, what the hell just happened?" asked Santana, marching toward him before he could make a move toward Kurt. "I leave the room for five minutes and you're kissing Slushie Salt? What the fuck?"

"Leave me alone, Santana," Carson groaned, trying to walk past her. She stopped him with a hand to the shoulder and glared at him.

"I most certainly will not. Why would you do that?" she asked in a hissed whisper. "Are you trying to fuck up any chance you'll ever have with Kurt? Because my psychic Mexican third eye is never wrong, and it can fucking sense that him and Bowties aren't going to last much longer. For Christ's sake, look at them. Kurt is ready to run for the damn hills any second."

"Really, Santana? Because they actually look pretty cozy to me," replied Carson bitterly. "Why do you care? It's not your life, ok?"

"I care because I'm your friend, and as your friend, I have a piece of business to discuss with you," she answered.

"I don't want to talk right now," Carson protested, trying again to push past her unsuccessfully.

"I think you will, because it concerns Kurt and what a dick Bowties is," she said. "Britts and I were talking to Artie, and-"

"God, Santana, I don't care," groaned Carson.

"Oh? You don't care that Wheels' idea of being a good director for West Side Story was to tell Trollberry and Blowties that they couldn't play characters who were experiencing a sexual awakening without first...you know...experiencing one?" she asked pointedly.

Carson blinked at her. "...What?"

"Now that I think about it, that was around the time that Berry called all us girls for a special meeting about losing her virginity," Santana mused. "It was gross, and I almost threw up. And I just bet you that she wasn't the only one who sacrificed her V card to the altar of West Side Story."

Carson felt anger boiling in his veins as Santana's words sunk in. He remembered the timeline of the play, too. Specifically, he remembered it being around the same time as Kurt coming home from a gay bar with a gigantic bruise on his arm and acting traumatized. And not too long before Carson walked in on something he hoped to never see again.

Carson was done. He was so fucking done.

He stalked right over to where Kurt and Blaine were talking to Mercedes and glared at Blaine for a long minute before rearing back and punching Blaine as hard as he could, right in the face. He punched him so hard it caused blinding pain in his knuckles, but it was worth it as he watched Blaine stumble and fall, one hand clutching his face as he yelled in pain. Mercedes gasped and Kurt screamed. Almost everyone else in the room stared.

"He was just a convenient body to you, wasn't he, asshole?" Carson yelled at the incapacitated Blaine. "Wasn't he?"

"Carson!" Kurt exclaimed, rushing over to Blaine and helping him up. "Carson, what has gotten into you tonight?"

Carson laughed bitterly. "What's gotten into me? What's gotten into me? Did you know, Kurt? Hmm? Did you know that the only reason your precious hobbit ever wanted to sleep with you...in our bed, by the way...was because he thought it would make him a better actor? In a role that he stole from you? Or, what, did that never come up while he was pretending to be the perfect fucking dapper gentleman?"

Kurt looked taken aback and glanced briefly to Blaine before looking back at Carson and shaking his head. "Carson, what.."

"I'll take that as a no," said Carson. "Tell him, asshole," he ordered, practically spitting at Blaine as more guests stopped what they were doing and watched the scene before them uncomfortably. "Tell him. TELL HIM!" He raised his hand to punch Blaine a second time and was stopped by a hand quickly clamped over his wrist.

"Dude," said Sam, pulling Carson away from Blaine. "Chill out, ok? Why don't you go get yourself together?"

Carson surveyed the scene in front of him. Blaine stumbling, one hand over his eye, which was rapidly swelling and turning purple. Kurt with his arms around his shoulders, assisting him, looking completely exhausted and worn out. Everybody looking and whispering. Santana looking at Carson in sympathy. Everybody else looking at Blaine in sympathy.

"You know what? I'm done," said Carson. "I'm done trying. I'm done. You won, Billy. You fucking won." He stalked out of the living room and down the hallway, just wanting to be alone, and passed Sebastian coming out of the bathroom on the way. And suddenly he had a different idea. If Kurt could throw his virginity away for an asshole who didn't love him, then why the fuck shouldn't Carson do the same thing? He didn't know if it was just the alcohol flowing through his blood making him feel that way, and he didn't care. He just wanted not to feel anything anymore. And more importantly, he wanted to rising nausea in his stomach to go away.

"You," he said, turning and grabbing Sebastian by the back of the shirt. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" asked Sebastian, as Carson ducked into the bathroom for a second to grab his abandoned drink cup.

"I'm giving you what you want," Carson muttered, moving his grip to Sebastian's wrist and dragging him up the stairs to the second floor of the Lopez' house. He opened doors at random until he found a room with a bed in it. He had no idea whose bedroom it was, nor did he really give a fuck. He shoved Sebastian inside and shut the door behind them.

"Not that I'm complaining, but what brought this on?" asked Sebastian as Carson pushed him onto the bed. "First you want me to kiss you and now you want to screw? What's the catch here? There's no chase anymore. It's boring."

Carson rolled his eyes. "Fine. Whatever. If you're going to turn me down, I'll just find somebody else."

"Well, let's not go that far," said Sebastian. "You sure you want to do this?"

Carson hesitated. "Yes," he lied. "Positive." He looked down at the floor, hoping Sebastian wouldn't be able to tell just how unsure he really was.

Sebastian stood up and shrugged. "Ok, cool. Let's do this thing, then." He crossed over to Carson and cupped his face in one hand, moving in to kiss him. Carson ducked his head and Sebastian wound up with a mouthful of hair.

"Yeah, no, there's got to be a few ground rules here," said Carson, reaching his hands out to Sebastian's shirt and beginning to clumsily unbutton it. "Like, no kissing on the lips. And preferably no eye contact." He didn't think he could actually go through with this if he actually had to look at Sebastian, and he couldn't kiss him again. He just couldn't. Kissing meant there were feelings, and this was...well, the whole point of this was to not feel feelings anymore, right?

"Ok, no foreplay. You want to get right to the main event. I got it," replied Sebastian as Carson slipped his shirt off of him. "May I?" he asked, reaching for the hem of Carson's T-shirt. Carson screwed his eyes shut and tried to summon up his nerve.

"Wait," he said, reaching for the cup full of liquor he had set down on the dresser inside the room. He downed the rest of the contents in two large gulps and then nodded. "Ok. Now," he said, waiting for the sweet numbness of alcohol's embrace to overtake him.

Sebastian hooked his fingers into the hem of Carson's shirt and pulled up. Carson gasped as the cool air of the room hit his skin and calloused fingers began trailing down his chest and torso.

"Damn, so this is what's been hiding under those hoodies all this time?" said Sebastian with a whistle. "No wonder Kurt's so possessive."

"Shut the fuck up," Carson ordered, irritated by the mention of Kurt. "Stop talking and just fuck me already. I want to get this over with."

"Yeah, no, that's totally romantic and shit," said Sebastian sarcastically. "What A Casanova."

"I said shut uuup," Carson whined.

"Fine," said Sebastian. "How do you want to do this?"

Carson looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "I mean, I get the feeling this is your first time at the rodeo, so to speak, so how are we doing this? Am I topping or are you? I'm versatile. I'm good with either."

Carson bit his lip. "I want to top," he said. "I don't trust you to not seriously injure me."

Sebastian snorted. "And I should trust you? You've never done this before, hon."

Carson sighed and flopped down on his back on the bed. "God, whatever. I really don't give a fuck who tops, ok? Just please get this over with."

"You're sure, right?" asked Sebastian.

"Goddammit, yes."

"Ok, ok." Sebastian crawled onto the bed and gingerly reached out a hand, tracing the contours of Carson's chest with his fingers. "You're really beautiful, you know," he said quietly. He leaned down and started sucking a kiss into Carson's neck, and Carson had enough experience with Kurt doing the same to recognize that this was going to leave a hickey.

Good. Kurt will see it. He'll see it and he'll know what it felt like for me every time he came home with a fucking constellation on his neck.

He felt a wave of sadness as he thought about Kurt and quickly tried to shove it away from his mind. If he was going to go through with this, he couldn't be thinking of his twin, or he wouldn't be able to do it. He tried to concentrate on the feeling of Sebastian's lips traveling down from his neck and kissing their way onto his chest. He tried to enjoy it, even, but it just wasn't happening. Yeah, it felt nice, but it was just lips on skin. Nothing more. He knew for a fact that if Kurt did the same thing to him, he would be rock hard by now. There was absolutely nothing happening in his pants as Sebastian worked his way down his stomach, paying slightly more attention to the area below Carson's belly button than he had anywhere else.

"Not having fun?" Sebastian quipped, brushing his hand against the front of Carson's jeans. "I mean, I hate to sound selfish, but...not even a wiggle down here? I'm kind of hurt."

"It's the alcohol," Carson mumbled. He was failing miserably at not thinking about Kurt, because Kurt's face was all he could think about. Specifically, what it would look like if he could see what was going on right now.

Like he would care. He's too busy tending to Bobby's busted face.

Still. Carson was losing his resolve with every passing second. What had he been thinking? He couldn't do this.

"S...stop," he murmured as he felt Sebastian's fingers working the top button of his pants. "Stop, please."

Sebastian sat up immediately and looked at him, the concern in his eyes looking out of place on him. "What's up? You ok?"

Carson bit his lip and shook his head. "No."

"Do you want to stop?"

"...Yes," Carson answered miserably. He sat up and hugged his arms over himself, staring at the floral pattern on the bedspread, trying not to cry. Crying in front of Sebastian was the last thing he needed. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I...I thought I could do this, but I...I c-can't."

Sebastian nodded and looked down at his hands. "I had a feeling you wouldn't be able to."

"I'm sorry," Carson said again, not sure whether he was addressing Sebastian, himself, or the Kurt in his imagination.

"It's cool. Don't worry about it," said Sebastian, getting up and locating his shirt on the bedroom floor. "But can I give you some advice?"

Carson snorted. "And what possible advice could you give me?"

Sebastian slipped on his shirt and handed Carson his. "If I were you, I would tell him how you feel. Before it's too late."

Carson felt his eyes growing as wide as saucers. "Wait, what?"

Sebastian didn't answer him. He merely flashed him a big, cheesy grin before heading out of the bedroom door, still buttoning up his shirt and leaving Carson to take a long, hard look at his life.

Kurt, I couldn't do it. I didn't do it. I'm sorry. I love you.

Kurt honestly just really wanted to go home. The night and Santana's party had been a complete disaster from the very beginning, what with Blaine practically hanging on him like a vine and not allowing him a moment alone to even breathe. He should have known as soon as Sebastian showed up that everything would have gone even more downhill. He still couldn't believe that he had shown up at all, or that Blaine had invited him when his boyfriend had specifically promised him he wouldn't talk to him behind his back anymore. And Carson...Carson had kissed Sebastian. And it had felt like a violent punch in the gut. Kurt had wanted nothing more in the moment he saw it happening than to run over and punch Sebastian right in the throat for touching Carson. Because Carson was supposed to be Kurt's, and nobody was supposed to touch him, especially not an asshole like Sebastian.

And then Kurt remembered that he had no right to say anything. Because he had chosen to stay with Blaine rather than put him through a traumatic breakup. Had chosen not go to to Chicago with Carson, because he was afraid that things would happen, and he didn't want to become a cheater. And Carson was right. He was free and single. And needed no one's permission to do whatever he wanted, least of all Kurt's.

"What was Carson talking about?" he asked Blaine after Carson had stalked off and Kurt had led his boyfriend into the Lopez kitchen to put ice on his swelling eye. He found some ice in the freezer (which, interestingly, took a while; the Lopez freezer was huge and was stocked to the brim) and wrapped some in a towel, creating a compress.

"What do you mean?" Blaine asked, wincing as the ice made contact with the sensitive skin.

"Blaine, come on. You know what I mean." Kurt dabbed the compress gently on Blaine's eye and looked at him. "About West Side Story."

Blaine shook his head. "I don't know, baby. Your brother is a little on the psycho side...ow!" he exclaimed as Kurt rubbed the ice a little too hard.

"Blaine, Scandals happened around that time," said Kurt quietly. "You were...you were awfully eager to lose our virginities together all of a sudden. Why?"

Blaine sighed and looked him in the eye. "Ok, yeah, Artie suggested that maybe Rachel and I should have sex. Not with each other, I mean. With Finn. And you. Shit, that didn't come out right, either. You know what I mean. To act better."

"So Carson was right," Kurt said, as realization and understanding settled in his brain. "You only wanted to sleep with me for a role."

Blaine shook his head vigorously. "Kurt...Kurt, no," he slurred drunkenly. "I wouldn't have pushed you if you really didn't want to."

"Really, Blaine?" said Kurt. "Because you were being awfully pushy outside that bar. And, you know, you seem to have a real problem with the word no in general."

"Aw, but Kurt, I...ok, I know I can be a little..um...but...you know...I'm trying to change that. Kurt. Please," Blaine stammered. "I'm sorry."

"Blaine, I.."

"Kurt, come on. That was months ago, and I love you. You can't hold that against me now, can you? I love you."

Kurt sighed and handed Blaine the ice compress. "Hold this to your eye, ok? I'm going to go see if Carson is ok."

"So what if he is? Kurt, he punched me," Blaine whined. "Just leave him alone!"

"He's my brother, Blaine," protested Kurt.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, he's your brother. Among other things, I'm sure," Blaine muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Kurt defensively.

"Nothing. Fuck, nothing. Go. Go check on him and stroke his ego like you always do," replied Blaine. "I'll be fine."

Kurt bit his lip and almost stayed put, but he mentally shook himself. No. He wasn't going to be told what he could and couldn't do. He was worried about Carson, and he was going to go check on him. He walked out of the kitchen and looked around the living room. Everybody was drunkenly dancing along to the music on the sound system, and there was no sign of Carson.

"Did anyone see where Carson went?" he asked loudly. Nobody seemed to hear him except Puck who stopped dancing long enough to nod.

"Yeah, dude. He was going with that Sebastian guy upstairs last time I saw him. Right after he punched Blaine. Is he ok, by the way?"

Kurt didn't answer him, because he couldn't. Carson had done what? He tried to ignore the rising feeling of panic in his stomach as he remembered the kiss from earlier.

No. No, no, no, oh god, no. He wouldn't DARE...not with my brother...it was bad enough trying to do it with Blaine, he can't fucking do this to me.

He was about to sprint up the stairs (to do what, he had no idea...burst in and stop them?), but stopped short as a pair of feet came bounding down them. Sebastian appeared at the bottom, fixing the buttons on his shirt and trying to tuck the tail back into his pants. Kurt felt sick.

"What the fuck did you do to him, you pervert?" Kurt practically screamed, launching himself at Sebastian and pushing violently at the other boy's shoulders. "Where is he?"

Sebastian held his hands up as if he were being arrested and gave him an amused smile. "Calm down, Princess. Let's just say I didn't do anything he didn't want me to do."

Kurt gave him one last push and hurried up the stairs, peering into every room until he found the one where Carson was sitting at the end of a bed, his shirt off and his head buried in his hands.

"Carson?" he said quietly, his adrenaline rush gone and replaced with a feeling of nausea as he took in his twin's appearance. His hair was mussed, his shirt was laying beside him on the bed, and worst of all, there was a hickey the size of a small planet resting proudly on his neck.

Oh dear god, shoot me. Just fucking shoot me. I can't deal with this, thought Kurt miserably as Carson removed his face from his hands and turned to look at him.

"What do you want, Kurt?"

"I...what...what happened here?" he asked, afraid to hear the answer. He could feel his bottom lip quivering in preparation to start crying.

"Why does it matter?" asked Carson, reaching down to button up his jeans, which Kurt hadn't even realized were undone and which made him feel even sicker. "Like I said before, it's none of your business what I do or who I do it with. I'm a single guy, you know. Plus, I'm not in our bed."

Kurt swallowed, trying to hold back the tears, but they were starting to leak out anyway. "Carson, I...Sebastian, of all people?"

Carson shrugged. "He was here, and he obviously wanted me."

"He's a complete jerk," protested Kurt, refusing to believe what had obviously happened. "He...he...did you at least use protection?"

Carson didn't answer him, just looked down at his shoes. Kurt's tears were flowing now, and he couldn't stop them. Just the thought of Sebastian's hands on Carson made him want to start punching things.

"…..He tried to blind me, Carson," he said in an almost-whisper. He saw Carson swallow before he reached for his shirt and pulled it on without a word.

"You should go check on Bumpkin. Make sure I didn't puncture his eyeball downstairs. Heaven forbid," Carson said.

"But-"

"Kurt, please," Carson pleaded, refusing to look at him. "I just...I want to be alone for awhile. Ok?"

Kurt swallowed and nodded, backing slowly out of the room. He shut the door behind him and leaned up against it, letting his tears flow freely. His stomach was in knots and he wanted to find Sebastian and beat him until he was bloody.

It's not supposed to be this way. This isn't how the story is supposed to go. Damn it, how did it get like this?

The next few days were some of the most awkward of Carson's life as he and Kurt basically danced around each other, barely saying two words to each other at a time. Carson felt guilty as hell that he had let Kurt believe anything went on between him and Sebastian, but in the moment he hadn't had the strength to tell him that he'd stopped it. Because then he would have had to tell him why. And he was drunk and tired and in no way ready to have that conversation. But Kurt's reaction had almost killed him. He had cried. There'd been tears. And Carson had been the cause of them. He hated himself so much for that. He wanted to just scoop Kurt up in his arms right then and kiss him and hug him, and assure him that no, he hadn't had sex with Sebastian. That he couldn't, because it would feel disloyal to Kurt.

And to make things worse, the date on which he would have to leave for Chicago and move into his new apartment was drawing closer, and Carson was afraid that he would end up leaving with him and Kurt still acting awkwardly around each other. He didn't think he could handle that if it happened. He would feel so awful, especially knowing that he was leaving Kurt all alone.

No. He had to apologize and explain. He had to say something before he left. He couldn't leave Kurt like this. He made his decision as he finished packing the bag he would take on the bus to Chicago (most of his stuff would be delivered when he got there, but he was taking along some basic things like clothes, and some precious things he didn't want to risk losing, like Kurt's picture frame). He would just go find Kurt, and-

"Carsey?"

Carson turned to see Kurt in the bedroom doorway, wringing his hands and looking nervous. "Can, um...can we talk?"

Carson smiled. "Yes. Yes, Kurt, of course we can." He sat down on the bed and patted the spot beside him. Kurt took it, looking down at his feet and taking a deep breath before speaking.

"I...I miss you," he said. "I'm going to miss you, and I...I didn't want you to leave while we...while we're still...I mean, we're not fighting, exactly, but...well...I just want you to know, I..." He paused and played with the nail of his thumb.

"What is it, Kurtsie?" asked Carson, taking his hand and gently rubbing his fingers over Kurt's knuckles.

"I... I just...can we make up and forget about last weekend?" Kurt asked in a small voice. "I don't...I don't want to talk about it, I just...you're leaving the day after tomorrow, and I just want to enjoy my last hours with you. This is it. This is the last time we're ever going to be...going to be us, and I..." He stopped talking and sniffed, his eyes leaking tears and his face scrunching up as he cried.

"Shhh, Kurtsie," Carson soothed, wrapping him in a hug. "Of course, baby. We...we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but I.."

"Carsey, no. Please. I really just want to forget it," Kurt said, hugging him back tightly. "I just want to pretend it's like old times for the next thirty-six hours. Can we do that?"

Carson nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, of course we can." He reached up a hand to stroke Kurt's hair and placed a kiss on his forehead. "I'm going to miss you too, you know. Probably more than you're going to miss me."

Kurt smiled sadly. "I don't think that's possible."

"It's not too late for you to come with me," said Carson hopefully. Kurt hesitated and shook his head.

"I can't. I'm sorry," he said. Carson nodded sadly.

"Ok. But...but just know that if you should ever change your mind, you can call me and I will come pick you up myself," he said determinedly.

"But you sold your death trap of a car," Kurt pointed out. "How would you get here?"

"I'll fly if I have to," said Carson, only half joking. "But if you change your mind, I will get you to me. Ok?"

Kurt smiled and nodded. "Ok."

They spent Carson's last day at home together, pretending that it was like old times. There was no Blaine to ruin it, even. Just them. And a festive goodbye dinner with the whole family, Sam included (but not Finn...he had left for Georgia almost right after graduation). Burt looked close to tears a few times as he told stories of when the twins were little and their mother was alive, and Carson really wished he would stop, because he did not need to start crying himself at the table. Fortunately, he was able to hold himself together.

His breaking point came when it was time for bed and he and Kurt were climbing into their respective sides for the last time. Carson held out his arms wordlessly and Kurt burrowed into them, his breath shaky as he settled into a comfortable position.

"I'm gonna be by myself tomorrow," he said quietly. "It's going to feel so strange not having you with me. I could barely handle it at Dalton when I knew I would see you every weekend."

"I know, Kurtsie," said Carson, hugging him close. "But you have Carson Bear, remember? You hug him, you hug me."

"I also stole one of your hoodies," said Kurt. "I'm going to put it on a pillow."

Carson laughed. "That's fine. I stole one of your scarves." He heard Kurt giggle softly and then sigh.

"I love you, Carson," he said softly.

Carson summoned all his strength and managed not to cry. "I love you too, Kurtsie." He held Kurt until his twin's breathing turned deep and even, indicating he was asleep. That was when he allowed himself to cry. He sobbed as quietly as he could, hoping not to wake Kurt, because he couldn't have Kurt see him like this. He couldn't believe he was leaving tomorrow and would never have told Kurt how he truly felt. What kind of coward was he? He couldn't leave without getting something like that off his chest. What if his bus crashed and he never saw Kurt again? Then what? Kurt would never know, and...

He heaved a huge breath and made a decision on the spot. One way or another, he was going to say what he should have said years ago. Kurt was asleep. He would hear nothing, but...but maybe the message would get through to him somehow. Through a dream, maybe.

"Kurt," he whispered, so as not to wake him. "There's something I need to say, and I'm too much of a coward to say it to you when you're awake. But I didn't want to leave here without at least saying it out loud, even if you can't hear me."

He felt Kurt shift softly in his sleep and almost had a panic attack, but his twin's breathing remained even, so he summoned the willpower to continue.

"God, this is hard for me to say. I...I love you," he said, feeling a rush of relief as the words left his mouth. "Not like, you know, as my brother, but...I really love you. You know...in...in that way. And I never told you because I was scared of what you would say, or that you would feel uncomfortable around me, and I thought I could stop feeling this way, but I can't, Kurt. I've tried, but I can't. And I've wanted to tell you so many times. Not a day goes by that I don't wish I'd have told you before you started dating him. I know it probably wouldn't have made a difference, but...I guess deep in my heart I hope maybe it would have. And I...I just...I want you to know...if I overprotected you or held you too close or worried too much all these years, it was only because I love you and couldn't ever stand to see you hurt. I couldn't go through with having sex with Sebastian. I told him to stop before we did anything, because I...oh, Kurt, all I could see in my brain was your face and I just couldn't do it. I only considered doing it in the first place to make you jealous, and I'm sorry for that."

He absentmindedly stroked his hand down Kurt's arm, rubbing small circles into his hand as the words continued to pour out of him, unable to be stopped now even if he wanted to. "And I still secretly hope that if you ever decide that you're done with the hobbit, that maybe you would...maybe you would consider me. I know it's stupid to hope that, but...you know me and how I always hope for things that I know I can't have." He pressed a soft kiss to Kurt's shoulder. "As long as we're always in each other's lives, I'll be content just to love you from a distance, ok?"

He brushed his fingers against Kurt's hand again and his heart leaped into his throat as he felt Kurt's hand grab his, squeezing it with a tight grip.

Oh god...oh god, oh god...

"K-kurt?" he asked cautiously. "Kurtsie?" He listened for anything to indicate that Kurt was listening. "Oh god, Kurt...are you awake?" he asked in a small, choked up voice. He waited for a long time, but there was no answer from his twin. He eventually breathed a sigh of relief mixed with disappointment and kissed Kurt's ear softly.

"Goodnight, Kurtsie. I...I love you."

As Carson drifted off to sleep, Kurt stared wide-eyed into the darkness, kicking himself for not having the courage to turn around and kiss him after that speech.

You're a coward, Kurt Hummel. A coward who doesn't deserve Carson.

The day Carson left was the lowest day of Kurt's life. He could barely eat breakfast or string two words together as he watched his twin bustle around the house, taking care of last minute things. It had finally hit him that this was the last morning for a very long time that he was ever going to get to spend with Carson, and it was making him depressed. Not to mention that he was still mentally kicking himself in the balls for not saying something the night before while Carson was pretty much pouring his heart out to him. He had wanted to. He'd very badly wanted to just turn around and kiss him until he couldn't breathe. But he had chickened out, and now he felt like he couldn't say anything. He wouldn't know how to bring it up, and Carson had enough to worry about this morning.

He was silent all morning and barely said anything on the ride to the bus station. He stood silently by as he watched Carole say goodbye to Carson, and then their dad wrapped him in a hug.

"I'm gonna miss you, kid," he said, fighting back tears.

"I'll miss you too, Dad," said Carson.

"You call me the second you arrive, you hear me?"

"I will, Dad."

They hugged for several more minutes, and then Burt let go, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt. Carson turned to Kurt and just looked at him for a minute.

"Um...I guess this is it," he said. Kurt nodded.

"Yeah. I guess so," he agreed, hoping he wouldn't cry and knowing that it was useless, because he could feel the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes already. He looked at Carson for a second and then launched himself at him, wrapping his arms tightly around him and squeezing like his life depended on it.

"I love you, Carsey," he said. "I love you so much, and I'm going to miss you, and I...I...I don't want you to go. I just want things to stay the same."

Carson rubbed his back and kissed his ear. "I know, Kurtsie. We knew this day would come, baby."

"I know, I just didn't think it would be this soon. Or ever. I'm not ready," said Kurt, sobbing now.

"Shhh," soothed Carson. "I know. I'm going to miss you, too. But I promise, I will call you and text you and bug the shit out of you. You'll be cursing my name by tomorrow afternoon."

Kurt giggled through his tears. "I couldn't ever be sick of you."

"I'll take that as a challenge," said Carson, hugging him tight. "And remember, if you change your mind, I'm only four hours away. You can come stay with me any time you want. Ok?"

Kurt nodded against his shoulder. "Ok."

The final boarding call was announced then, and Kurt reluctantly let go of Carson, who reached out a hand and gently brushed away Kurt's tears with his thumb. "Don't be a stranger," he said, his voice shaking ever so slightly.

Kurt shook his head. "Never."

Carson gave him one final smile and waved at Burt and Carole before stepping onto the bus, looking briefly back at Kurt before he did so. The doors closed and Kurt could see Carson settling into a seat by the window, looking out of it and spotting him. He smiled and touched his fingers to the glass, and Kurt raised his hand in a wave in return as the bus started moving.

No. No, don't take him. I'm not ready to say goodbye yet, please...

Carson's eyes never left that window, nor did Kurt's. They gazed at one another until the bus got too far away to see anymore. Not that Kurt could have seen anything, anyway. At that point, his eyes were completely clouded over with tears.

It took Kurt approximately forty-eight hours to be completely worn down by life without Carson. He just couldn't handle it. The first night was a nightmare, literally. He had talked to Carson on the phone (for the thousandth time that day...Carson had called him almost as soon as the bus had disappeared out of the station that morning and they had spoken off and on throughout the entire day). He had done his facial routine, dragging it out as long as possible to avoid going to bed, but eventually he had no choice but to slide between the sheets on his side of the bed and let it sink in that he was completely alone. Well, not completely, perhaps. He had Carson Bear clutched in one hand, and a pillow covered in Carson's hoodie at his back, taking the place Carson normally would have filled. But there was nobody on Carson's side of the bed. And there would never be again. He sighed and grabbed his phone off the nightstand, opening up a blank text message.

I miss you. -Kurtsie

-I miss you too, baby. This apartment is so empty. It's creepy. -Carsey

-I love you.

-I love you, too.

Kurt let out a breath and turned out the lamp, holding Carson Bear tightly and hoping that the real Carson could feel it in Chicago.

I love you, Carsey. I love you the way you love me. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you before you left.

Kurt woke up that night in the kitchen, with absolutely no memory of how he got there. He did know, however, that he had been dreaming of something big and frightening chasing him. And that he had been looking for Carson. And Carson hadn't been there.

Stupid nightmares. I guess I'll be sleepwalking a lot now that Carson isn't here to come find me.

He settled back into bed and tried to sleep, but it was no use. Sleep wasn't going to come. He couldn't fall back asleep without Carson holding him. He knew he had to try, but he just couldn't. He bit his lip and held back tears as he grazed his fingers over his phone. Would Carson mind him calling so late?

He did say to call any time, he thought as he threw caution to the wind and dialed Carson's number.

"You can't sleep either?" his twin asked, picking up on the first ring.

"I had a nightmare," Kurt said quietly into the phone. "I woke up in the kitchen."

"Aaaw, baby, I'm sorry," said Carson sympathetically. "I wish I had been there to put you back to bed."

"Me too," said Kurt with a shaky sigh. "Will...will you stay on the phone with me until I fall asleep?"

"Of course, Kurtsie," said Carson. "Of course I will."

Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

By the next night, Kurt had reached a decision. He simply couldn't stay behind in Lima by himself. It would destroy him, especially since he would be stuck there until at least the spring, if not longer, and he just didn't have it in him. As he hugged Carson Bear close and hung up the phone from Carson's latest call, he smiled to himself as he finalized his choice. He was going to join Carson in Chicago the very first chance he got. Carson had been right. He could practice living in a big city until his time to shine in New York came. And until then, he would have Carson.

He drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face at the thought.

"You can't go to Chicago," said Blaine the next day when Kurt came over to tell him the news.

Kurt blinked and looked at him in confusion. "I have to, Blaine. I can't...I just...I can't stay here. I feel..." He trailed off, wondering how best to finish that sentence. Incomplete without my brother didn't feel like it would fly, somehow.

Blaine narrowed his eyes. "Is this about Carson? Come on, Kurt, we just got him to leave us alone and you want to go running back to him?"

"No," Kurt lied. "I just...Blaine, I don't want to stay here in Lima into the fall. I have to go somewhere, and Chicago is a good choice. I can practice living in a city, and...and Carson is there, yes. I'll have somewhere secure to stay. I know you probably think that makes me pathetic, or whatever, but..."

"No," said Blaine. "You're not pathetic. It's just that you're...you're stuck. You don't belong here anymore. I understand."

Kurt nodded. "Exactly. Thank you."

"But Kurt, you can't go to Chicago," said Blaine fiercely. "That's just...no. You can't. I absolutely refuse to support that. You belong in New York."

"And I'm reapplying for NYADA," Kurt reminded him. "But I can't just go to New York."

"You don't need NYADA," said Blaine. "And I'll hate to see you go, but if you feel that strongly about it, then you can't stay here. It would kill you, and kill me. But not Chicago, Kurt. New York."

"Blaine, what would I do in New York? I wouldn't have any place to stay, or anything to do there," said Kurt.

"But you would find something, Kurt. New York is your dream. Remember?" Blaine pressed, gripping at Kurt's arms tightly. "Come on. Trust me on this."

"Chicago is closer," Kurt pointed out. "We could see each other more often."

Blaine shrugged. "Yeah, but don't you want to follow your dream? Chicago is not your dream."

Kurt sighed. He hated to admit it, but the thought of going to New York was, although terrifying, also slightly...adventurous. Blaine was probably right. New York was his dream. It had always been. And he supposed it would be fun. And easier than moving twice in such a short span of time.

And he really did have to learn how to live apart from Carson.

But he didn't want to go alone. Maybe if he had someone to make the journey with him. Someone who would want to live there, too...

He smiled as he left Blaine's house and reached into his pocket for his phone, dialing a number as he opened his car door.

"Rachel? What would you say if I told you I had a wild idea?"

Kurt sat back and looked around at his new surroundings. Sure, the huge warehouse-like rental space in Bushwick he and Rachel had found on their limited budget was kind of drafty and disgusting, but he was sure with a little paint and some of his patented Kurt Hummel decorating flair, they could have it looking livable in no time. Maybe even homey.

It had taken some convincing, but he had finally managed to get Rachel to agree to come live with him in New York. He was glad to have her, even if she was probably going to be a pain at times to live with. He really didn't want to live by himself, and he'd pointed out that this way Rachel wouldn't have to deal with the dorms at NYADA come the fall.

"Think of all the privacy you'll have to practice your singing," he'd said. That, he thought, had probably been what finally convinced her. That, and the fact that Finn had basically broken up with her to go to Georgia, so she pretty much had no reason to stay in Lima for the summer besides to be with her dads. And even they had told her that going with Kurt was a good idea.

"Good idea my ass," Carson had said when Kurt had called and told him the news. "They were probably glad to be rid of her. I know if I was them, I would have sold her back to Shelby after the first year. I'm glad you're not alone, though."

Kurt giggled. "Oh, Carsey. Don't ever change, baby."

"Don't you change either. And...give her hell for me."

Kurt snorted. "I'll do my best."

They still had yet to get their beds or much of anything besides a few basic things, but they would have them soon enough. Burt and the Fathers Berry were shipping them their things from Lima as quickly as possible. For now, it was sort of fun. Like camping. And at least Kurt had his face creams. And Carson Bear. And his Carson hoodie pillow. Those things were the most important.

"We definitely have to paint this place," said Rachel as they prepared to go to sleep on their first night. "I love it, but it's depressing."

"I agree," said Kurt. "We'll hit up a hardware store this weekend and see what we can do." He picked up his phone and dialed Carson's number, barely making it past the first ring before his twin picked up.

"How are things, Kurtsie? How's New York? Are you still alive? No muggers or pickpockets?"

Kurt grinned. "Nice to see you're worrying just as much as ever."

"Oh, hush, you know I worry too much. It's who I am," replied Carson.

"Yes, I know. And I love that about you," said Kurt. "New York is great, but I miss you."

"I miss you, too," said Carson. "So much. I really want to see you again."

"You should come visit when Rachel and I get the place looking more livable," said Kurt, feeling a pang of homesickness in his chest. He would give anything to be leaning into Carson's arms right now, but New York was where he belonged.

"Do I get to play practical jokes on Rachel?" Carson asked hopefully.

Kurt sighed. "Fine. I suppose that's doable." He could practically hear Carson grinning on the other end.

"Are you going to sleep?" Carson asked.

"I was gonna try," replied Kurt with a yawn.

"Shall I stay on the line until you fall asleep?"

Kurt smiled. "Yes. Yes, you should. I would love that."

"Ok," said Carson. "You know I love you, right?"

"I do," replied Kurt softly, with a small sigh. "I do. And I love you, too."