After all the trials and tribulations that Carson had experienced throughout his young life, he had foolishly assumed that living with a roommate that wasn't Kurt should have been a cake walk.

How hard can it possibly be? That was what he had asked himself as his and Santana's plane landed in Chicago and the two of them began the process of moving themselves plus the suitcases full of Santana's things to Carson's apartment. It's just Santana. She's my friend. She's practically family, really. I owe her so much. This year will be... well... if not awesome, then at least tolerable.

After a couple of days of living with Santana, he was beginning to realize that, just like with most things in his life, it wasn't going to be nearly that simple. Actually, it didn't even take that long. He had an inkling that it was going to be an interesting year five minutes after they'd first entered the apartment building and ran into Mrs. Moore, who was taking her garbage out to the incinerator.

"Hey, handsome," she'd greeted him brightly as she side-eyed Santana, who was raising one eyebrow at the words. "You're back! Have a good weekend?"

"Yeah," Carson mumbled uncomfortably, shifting his weight from foot to foot and praying that this exchange wasn't going to last very long. "Great."

"Good, good," Mrs. Moore nodded, turning her attention to Santana and looking her up and down with a tight smile. "And who's this...young lady?" she asked.

"Oh, hi, I don't believe we've met," Santana replied, not missing a beat as she held out her hand and planted a wide, fake smile on her face that Carson knew full well meant that she was slipping into Lima Heights Adjacent mode. "I'm Santana Lopez. Carson's girlfriend."

Carson almost choked on his own spit upon hearing those words exit Santana's mouth, and he wasn't sure who was more shocked, himself or Mrs. Moore.

"Girlfriend?" they said at the same time. Santana's smile grew wider as Mrs. Moore's grew tighter.

"Oh, don't be so shy, honey bear," she said sweetly, placing one arm around Carson's shoulder and smiling at Mrs. Moore while Carson tried to look less uncomfortable. "Carson and I are moving in together and have lots to do, so we've got to go, but we'll be seeing you around, k?" Mrs. Moore gaped at her before slowly walking past them, dragging her bag of garbage and looking back at them every few seconds, as though trying to process what she'd just heard.

"Girlfriend?" Carson said again, gingerly removing Santana's arm from around himself and looking at her quizzically. "The fuck?"

"Hey, I just did you a favor," replied Santana as Carson turned the key in the lock to let them into the apartment. "Mrs. Robinson back there is creepy and totally thirsty for the D. Specifically, your D. Now she'll leave you alone. You're welcome."

She has a point there, Carson thought. Ok. Maybe this whole unrelated roommate thing will be cool.

Of course, one thing he hadn't counted on was the fact that Santana was both a bathroom hog and a very messy person. Granted, Carson wasn't exactly neat as a pin himself, but almost twenty combined years of experience with sharing a bedroom and living quarters with Kurt had trained him to be at least moderately tidy. Even during the two years he spent without Kurt, in the deepest and darkest throes of his depression, he'd never been quite as messy as Santana seemed to be.

"Is it really necessary for you to throw your clothes all over the place whenever you change?" he grumbled loudly one morning as he stumbled sleepily around the apartment, picking up stray shirts from every corner of the living room and sighing. It was his first day of the fall semester and he wasn't in a pleasant mood to begin with. "You have a fucking laundry hamper in your room. Can't you, you know... use it?"

He was greeted with silence in response, as Santana was still in the shower. He rolled his eyes and stalked off toward Santana's room, clothes in hand, planning to just toss them on top of her bed and let her deal with them. "And we're buying a fucking timer for the bathroom, too!" he added crankily as he entered her room and threw the clothes in the general direction of the bed. He was about to say something else as he turned around to leave, but immediately forgot what it was and screamed as he was confronted with an eye full of naked Santana coming in from her shower.

"Fuck!" he shouted, closing his eyes and covering them with one hand as he ran out into the hallway and pressed himself against the wall, although not nearly fast enough to save himself from getting a good look. "Ever heard of a towel, Santana? Jesus."

"I like to air dry, Hummel. Relax," came Santana's voice from inside the room. "If you weren't in my room in the first place, you would never have seen a damn thing."

"I wouldn't have had to be in your room if you would learn to keep your clothes in there instead of all over the living room," Carson retorted, still trying to shake the terrifying image of female nudity from his mind. "I'm traumatized for life now."

"Oh please, you're such a drama queen," Santana snorted. "They're just boobs, calm the fuck down. It's not like I haven't caught a glimpse of your goodies."

"The hell?" said Carson, confused.

"Well, if you're going to sleep naked after a loud Skype sex session with Kurt, you should learn to keep your door closed," replied Santana casually. "I passed by your room and caught a very nice peek of your package yesterday morning when you were getting out of bed and putting your underwear on," she continued, exiting the room (thankfully now dressed). "Can I just say that if that is what you've been hiding inside your jeans all these years, I'm frankly surprised that Kurt is still able to walk normally."

"I'd throw something at you right now if I had anything to throw," Carson grumbled as they made their way into the kitchen. "Seriously, we need to talk about boundaries and shit if we're going to be doing this roommate thing for an entire year."

"Ok, ok, calm your tits, Hummel," said Santana, removing two pieces of bread from a bag and placing them in the toaster, leaving a trail of crumbs on the counter in her wake. "I promise to wear a towel when I get out of the shower and not sneak glances at your dick when given the opportunity."

"While you're at it, you should also promise to keep all your bathroom shit in the drawer I cleared out for you and not all over the sink," replied Carson, sitting down at the table and crossing his arms grumpily. "And put your discarded clothes in your hamper. That's what it's for."

Santana rolled her eyes and popped her toast out to butter it. "Ok, ok. Aren't you eating?" she asked, taking a bite and chewing it thoughtfully as she looked at him.

"Not just yet," said Carson. "I have to shower and stuff."

"Make sure you eat," Santana ordered him through a mouthful of toast. "And take your meds. Kurt made me promise to watch you like a hawk."

"I know he did," replied Carson, smiling a little down at his hands. "Clean up your bread crumbs."

"Sure thing, Dad," said Santana sarcastically as Carson got up and headed for the bathroom, sighing. He was already exhausted and he hadn't even been to class yet.

One day down, a billion more to go.

While Carson was busy navigating the unfamiliar waters of sharing living space with Santana Lopez, Kurt was dealing with his own version of roommate misadventures. He had to admit to himself that living with Sebastian, for the most part, wasn't turning out to be nearly as bad as he'd imagined. He actually wasn't even sure what he'd been imagining. Maybe nonstop bitching at one another. Or a constant barrage of thinly veiled requests for a threesome from Sebastian. Surprisingly, neither of those things seemed to be coming to pass. In fact, compared to how Kurt had always sort of pictured him in his head, Sebastian was turning out to be a relatively normal, pleasant enough roommate.

During the day, anyway.

Nights were an entirely different story. Sebastian was apparently in the habit of bringing home a different guy almost every night, and even though their bedrooms were at the opposite end of the hall from one another, Kurt could still count on one hand the number of times in the past few weeks that he'd actually had an uninterrupted night's sleep. He wished that he'd been able to find his noise machine when he'd been packing his things at the loft, but for the time being, ear plugs were going to have to do.

"You could keep it down on week nights, you know," he informed Sebastian in a cranky tone one morning as he sat down with a bowl of oatmeal and began to furiously stir it around with a spoon. "Some of us have early morning classes and would like to actually get a good night's sleep instead of listening to a porn shoot happening all night down the hall. And if your nightly screw is still here, he had better leave my organic orange juice alone."

"Aaaw, are you jealous, Kurt?" asked Sebastian, grinning at him from where he stood leaning casually against the kitchen counter, wearing a bathrobe and sipping from a mug of coffee. "You know, if you're lonely you could have just joined us."

"In your dreams," muttered Kurt. "Where'd you meet this one?"

"Campus library," replied Sebastian, walking over to the table and pulling out a chair to sit down. "He checked out my books, and I checked out him. There's something intensely sexy about a guy who wears glasses, which is part of the reason I've always found Carson so hot..."

"Hey," Kurt snapped in a warning tone. "Carson's mine."

"I'm aware. Pity," said Sebastian, shaking his head sadly. "Anyway, you don't have to worry about your orange juice. Sean left already."

"Good."

"Incidentally," Sebastian continued, "While we're on the subject of noise, perhaps you should be more careful about your volume when you and Carson are in the midst of erotic Skype encounters."

Kurt felt the tips of his ears getting hot as he processed Sebastian's words. "Maybe you shouldn't be eavesdropping on people's private moments."

"Oh, sweetie, I don't have to eavesdrop. I can hear it perfectly well without putting in any effort whatsoever," replied Sebastian with a cheeky grin. "I have to tell you, I always knew that you two having sex would be hot as hell, but if what I've been able to glean from your very loud cyber sex sessions is any indication, it can also get rather on the kinky side."

"Shut uuup," Kurt groaned, spooning the last of his oatmeal into his mouth and taking the bowl over to the sink. "And stop staring at my ass. I can feel you looking at it."

"Can you blame me? You can bounce a quarter off that ass."

"Carson would kill you."

"He'd get a little snarky, yeah," agreed Sebastian. "Frankly, I find it hot when he gets that way."

"Mine."

"I know. Ok, in all seriousness now, how has he been doing?" asked Sebastian.

"He's doing well," Kurt replied, rinsing out his oatmeal bowl and setting it on the rack to dry. "I made Santana swear on a stack of Vogue magazines to keep a sharp eye out and let me know if... if it gets bad. I hate being so far away from him."

"He doesn't like it either," Sebastian pointed out. "He's only doing what he thinks is best for you."

"I know," said Kurt with a small smile.

"It's sweet."

"I know."

"So sweet I might puke rainbows at any moment," continued Sebastian with a grin.

"Oh, shut up," said Kurt with a roll of his eyes. "I have to go. If you have any conquests over today, keep them out of my food, hmm?"

"I solemnly swear," promised Sebastian as Kurt grabbed his bag off the back of a chair and headed out the door. He was halfway down the hallway to the elevator when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, and he grinned to himself as he looked at the caller identification screen before answering it.

"Hi, baby," he said into the phone, pressing the elevator button as he spoke.

"Morning, beautiful," said Carson, and Kurt could hear him yawning. "Sleep well?"

"I would have, if Sebastian hadn't decided to take home a librarian last night," muttered Kurt. "I swear to god, that guy's DNA was mixed with a rabbit's at birth."

"Poor Kurtsie," said Carson softly. "He's not parading naked men around in front of you, is he? Because I would not approve."

"No," said Kurt. "Not as of yet."

"Good."

"Have you eaten yet?" asked Kurt, stepping into the elevator as the doors finally opened.

"No, but I will. I promise," said Carson.

"And take your pills," continued Kurt.

"Kuuurt, I know," Carson whined. "You worry too much."

"Excuse me, I have every right to worry about you," Kurt said fiercely. "You're my boyfriend, you're a thousand miles away from me, and you're still recovering. It drives me nuts not being able to be there with you."

"I know, honey," said Carson, and Kurt could hear the small smile forming on his face, even over the phone. "But I promise you, everything will be fine. I'm eating. I'm taking care of myself. Santana's making sure of that."

Kurt relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief as the elevator delivered him into the lobby and he made his way out onto the street. "Good. And I've checked the weather for Chicago over the next week, and it's clear skies all the way through. So you should be ok there."

"The only thing I'm not doing on a regular basis is shaving," added Carson, sounding mischievous. "Because I know how much my stubble turns you on. I've got a pretty good growth going on today. It's starting to come in since the last time I shaved."

"Oooh," Kurt replied, shivering pleasantly at the mental image. "Skype date tonight?"

"You know it, baby."

"I should go before I get a boner and have to exchange awkward eye contact with a cab driver," said Kurt, and Carson snorted on the other end of the line.

"Are you going to work or to school?" he asked.

"School first, and then I'm going into the office later today to help Isabelle with a banquet she has to plan," replied Kurt. "It'll be a long day."

"Ok, well, have a good day, sweetheart," said Carson, blowing a kiss into the phone. "I'll talk to you later tonight, ok?"

"Ok. I love you."

"Love you too."

It really was a very long, exhausting day for Kurt, and by the time he'd dragged himself back into the apartment, it was already dark. Thankfully, Sebastian didn't seem to be home yet with whoever he was planning to sleep with that night, so Kurt figured he'd have peace and quiet long enough to have a nice Skype chat with Carson before he got back. He went straight to his bedroom and logged on, unable to wait to see his twin's face.

"Kurtsie!" exclaimed Carson happily as soon as he'd accepted the chat invitation. "Honey, you look exhausted. Did you just get back home?"

"Yeah, but I couldn't wait to see you," said Kurt, settling himself cross legged on the bed and pulling his laptop up to balance on his knees. "How was school today?"

"Long," grumbled Carson. "I'm taking so many classes this semester in order to be able to graduate on time, it's fucking ridiculous."

"Poor baby. Think of how rewarding it will be when you see your name in The New Yorker, though," offered Kurt. "And then I'll be able to say "That's my man."

A loud "Aaaaaw" echoed from somewhere on Carson's end and he rolled his eyes, turning his head away from the laptop to stare across the room. "Santana, Jesus! A little privacy, please!"

"Hi, Kurt," came Santana's voice, and then her face was popping into frame while Carson sighed. "How's life with Meerkat? He's still trying desperately to convince you to let him become the meat in a Hummel sandwich, I trust."

"Santana, can you go?" Carson whined. "Come on!"

"Ok, ok," she relented, getting up and waving at Kurt before disappearing.

"I'm going to murder her one of these days," Carson muttered, and Kurt laughed.

"She's just being herself, honey. I'm really glad she's there. If you were by yourself over there I would never get anything done because I'd be worrying twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, round the clock."

"Maybe so, but still," said Carson grumpily.

"Aaaw, what can I do to put a smile on that pouty little face?" asked Kurt in a sweet voice, and Carson looked at him with wide, begging eyes.

"Skype kisses?" he suggested, and Kurt smiled.

"Ok," he agreed, leaning forward to graze his lips against the screen where Carson was doing the same. "Better?"

"Much," said Carson, smiling. "You taste just like an LCD screen."

"Dork."

"I love youuuu."

"I love you too."

They ended the call soon afterwards so that Kurt could eat and shower, and he must have been more exhausted than he'd realized, because the minute he crawled back into bed that night, he was out like a light within two minutes of his head hitting the pillow. He might have slept all the way through to the morning, if it weren't for the fact that he was woken out of his slumber by the insistent ringing of his phone. It took him a minute to register that that's what it was, and then he felt his stomach drop when he realized it was Santana calling. Calling him at two in the morning. From Chicago. Where Carson was. Oh god, is Carson ok?

"Santana?" he said breathlessly as he answered the call. "Santana, what's going on? Where's Carson? Is he ok?"

"He's um... he's having an attack, Kurt," she replied, sounding tired and awkward. "He wanted me to call you." Kurt swallowed, realizing that he could hear Carson gasping and breathing heavily in the background.

"Kurt? Is that Kurt?" he heard a small, panicked voice say, and then Santana's voice saying "Yeah, hon, it's him."

"Put him on," Kurt ordered her, and there was scuffling as Santana handed the phone over to Carson, who started breathing shakily into it.

"K-kurt?" he asked, sounding so scared and helpless, and Kurt felt like complete shit for being physically unable to hold him right now.

"Carsey," he said soothingly. "Carsey, baby, it's me. I'm here, honey. I'm right here."

"Kurt, I can't breathe, and it's not even raining, and I don't... I don't know what..." Carson babbled. He was definitely crying, and Kurt bit his lip to keep from shedding his own tears. He wanted so badly to scoop Carson up in his arms and never let him go.

"Carson, is Santana there with you still?" he asked. "Carson?" he repeated when there wasn't any response at first. "Honey, put me on speakerphone for a minute, ok?"

"Ok," Carson replied.

"I'm still here, Kurt," he heard Santana say in the background.

"Ok, Santana, I want you to sit beside him and put your arms around him," Kurt ordered, trying to keep his voice steady. He needed to be strong right now for Carson. "Hold him, ok?"

"Ok," Santana agreed, and Kurt heard more rustling.

"Did he take his anxiety pill?" he asked.

"Yeah, he took it a minute ago."

"Ok, good. Now take me off speaker and give the phone back to him," Kurt told her. "Don't stop holding him until he starts to calm down. Ok?"

"Ok," replied Santana, and then Kurt heard Carson's shaky voice on the other end once more.

"Kurt, it hurts," he whined. "My chest hurts so bad."

"I know, sweetheart. I know," soothed Kurt, reaching across the bed for Carsey Teddy and hugging him to his own chest. "Baby, I've got my teddy bear. The one that looks like you. I'm hugging it. Can you feel it? Can you feel me hugging you?"

"Yes," replied Carson. "Yes, I can feel it."

"Ok, good," said Kurt. "Now, close your eyes and focus on my voice, ok? Just listen to my voice. I'm right there with you. I've got you, and I won't let you go. Never. Ok?"

"Ok," whispered Carson.

Kurt closed his own eyes, holding Carsey Teddy tightly and rocking himself back and forth as if he were holding the real Carson. He began humming softly into the phone, hoping that this would be enough to calm his twin down even a little. It seemed like hours, although it was really only about twenty minutes, before Carson's breathing finally started becoming less ragged and his cries had settled into short hiccups.

"Feeling better, Carsey?" asked Kurt.

"Mmm-hmm," replied Carson, sounding thoroughly exhausted. Kurt positively ached to hold him now. It wasn't fair that he had to sit there, states away from Carson and feeling utterly useless while his boyfriend was suffering and there was nothing he could do about it.

"I love you, honey," he said softly into the phone, pulling his knees up to his chest. "Get into bed and try to get some sleep, hmm?"

"Will you stay on the phone with me until I fall asleep?" asked Carson, clearly trying his hardest to retain control of his voice. Kurt felt awful for him. He must be so embarrassed, especially with Santana there to see this. He doesn't even like ME seeing it.

"Of course I will, honey," he said, settling himself back under the covers and placing the phone next to his ear on the pillow. "I'm right here, ok? I won't leave you."

There was silence on the other end for a moment, and then he heard Carson heave a shaky sigh. "Kurt?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart. Try to go back to sleep, ok?" said Kurt, feeling a couple of tears start to slide down his cheeks. They didn't say anything else to each other after that. Kurt just lay there, knowing that Carson was doing the same, and knowing that each of them was taking comfort in at least having each other there in some small way.

"Carson?" Kurt whispered into the phone after a while. There was no answer. He must have fallen back asleep. Poor baby was probably exhausted, he thought as he hung up. He heard careful footsteps approaching his bedroom door and looked up curiously as someone knocked.

"Yeah?" he called out. The door slowly opened, and Sebastian poked his head inside the room cautiously.

"What is it, Sebastian?" asked Kurt, plugging his phone back into its charger by his bed.

"Um... is Carson ok?" asked Sebastian, biting his lip. He sounded genuinely concerned, which surprised Kurt a little, but he quickly recovered and nodded.

"Yeah. He'll be ok," he replied.

"It gets really bad, huh?"

"Yeah," said Kurt. "And it... it's really hard, not being able to be there to comfort him. I understand why we're apart right now, but I really hate this."

Sebastian nodded in understanding. "It'll be over sooner than you think. Hang in there. Both of you."

"Thanks," said Kurt, smiling. This felt weird, this moment with Sebastian. It almost felt like... friendship?

New surprises every day, Kurt thought to himself as Sebastian said good night and closed the bedroom door. And I guess he's right. It'll be over soon.

Soon, Carsey. Soon.

By late October, Carson and Santana had settled into a somewhat comfortable roommate routine. It was actually kind of fun living with her, Carson decided. Of course, he missed Kurt so much that it actually physically hurt sometimes, especially when he could only hear his voice over the phone while he was having a bad anxiety attack and couldn't have what he really wanted, which was to be wrapped up safe and snug in Kurt's arms while his twin stroked his hair and comforted him until he calmed down.

And sure, he and Santana still had their share of arguments, especially since Santana occasionally needed reminding that the living room was not her personal closet. And because she never missed an opportunity to give him a good natured ribbing if she happened to overhear him and Kurt talking on the internet. Carson could definitely live without those things.

On the whole, though, he supposed that he was enjoying the time he was spending as her roommate. Apparently, so was Kurtsie Kitty. The cat had taken an almost instant liking to Santana when she'd moved into the apartment, sometimes even preferring to spend his nights sleeping on her chest instead of Carson's, which he supposed probably made some sense, from Kurtsie Kitty's perspective. Her chest probably made a softer and fluffier bed for him.

He was laying there on the afternoon of Halloween, in fact, while Carson and Santana slumped side by side on the couch, bored out of their minds. Carson had no afternoon or evening classes, and Santana didn't have to show up to her job tending bar several blocks away, so the two of them were faced with a long stretch of evening ahead of them with nothing to do.

"I'm bored," said Santana after several moments of silence had gone by.

"Me too," Carson sighed. Actually, he was more worried than he was bored. Sebastian had apparently convinced a very reluctant Kurt to go with him to a college Halloween party that night, and the very thought of Kurt spending an evening surrounded by drunk guys wasn't doing very much to ease Carson's worried mind. You'd better guard him with your life, Sebastian, I swear to fuck. Or I'll murder you.

"He's a big boy, Hummel," said Santana, as if she were able to read Carson's mind. "He can handle himself at a party. Calm down. I know you have an anxiety problem, but come on."

"I know he can, I'm just not sure that I trust others to," mumbled Carson, patting the space beside him to try to entice Kurtsie Kitty to come snuggle with him. The cat just looked at him and flicked his tail, settling himself further into Santana's chest. "And I can't help being a worrier. My therapist says it's likely my anxiety problems started even way before the lightning strike. Which makes a lot of sense and explains a lot of shit, now that I think about it."

"Your cat has an unhealthy obsession with my boobs," said Santana thoughtfully, looking down and patting Kurtsie Kitty on the head. "I do like pussy and everything, but..."

"Yeah, please stop talking," said Carson.

"Ok," said Santana. "Let's focus on the dilemma at hand. It's four in the afternoon, on Halloween, and we have shit all to do."

"So what?" said Carson.

"What do you mean, so what? It's Halloween, Carson," said Santana pointedly. "We're not teenagers, but we're still young. We should, I don't know... do something with our evening other than sit here on the couch watching AMC's Poltergeist marathon."

"What's wrong with Poltergeist?" asked Carson. "We could make a drinking game out of it. Every time someone yells the name Carol Anne, we take a shot. We'll be drunk off our ass by midway through the first movie."

"You can't drink, hon," Santana reminded him. "Your meds."

"Yeah, you're right. Fuck."

"Aren't there kids in this dump of a building?" Santana mused. "We could hand out candy to them, the old fashioned way. Scare the shit out of them in good old Halloween tradition before they get any candy."

"Isn't that kind of mean?" asked Carson.

"Please. I grew up in Lima Heights. People there practically live to scare kids shitless on Halloween night," said Santana, getting up off the couch and causing Kurtsie Kitty to be unceremoniously dumped onto her vacant seat, where he shook his head and licked his paw, as if to restore some of his dignity, before stalking out of the room. "It's what made me the delightful woman I am today."

"We don't have any candy," said Carson.

"No shit, Sherlock. We go out and we buy some. Come on," said Santana, reaching for Carson's hands and dragging him up off the couch. "At the very least, let's go out. I'm bored as fuck sitting here doing nothing."

So Carson let Santana drag him out of the apartment and over to the Halloween Express that always appeared a couple of streets away from Carson's building every year like magic before disappearing until the next October. They didn't actually end up leaving the store for a couple of hours, though. Apparently, Santana in a costume shop was very, very similar to a child in a candy store.

"Ok, how hot would I look in one of those?" she said happily when she laid eyes on the display of the women's sexy costumes.

"I think you would look tragic," replied Carson in a bored voice. "I mean, seriously? Why the fuck do Sexy Dorothy costumes even exist? That character is supposed to be a twelve year old girl."

"You are such a Halloween Grinch," said Santana. "Loosen up a bit. Let's try on some costumes. Look, they make sexy ones for men, too," she said, grinning mischievously as she held up a package that proclaimed itself to be "Sexy Policeman."

"I'm not putting that on," said Carson firmly.

"Why not?" said Santana. "We could take pictures. How much do you think Kurt would just love to open a text message and be greeted by a picture of you in this costume? You could hold up handcuffs and say something like "You've been a bad boy, Kurtsie..."

"Oh my god, will you shut up?" hissed Carson, mortified. "I am not doing that."

Santana shrugged. "Whatever. I'm trying on Sexy Dorothy."

Several hours later, after Santana had tried on almost every costume she could get her hands on, and after she and Carson had engaged in a rather juvenile fight with rubber snakes and spiders, they left the store and headed home. They didn't bother to pick up candy, figuring that they'd already missed the prime trick or treating hours, anyway. They ended up vegging out on the couch again, with a bowl of popcorn between them while they watched a TV broadcast of The Exorcist.

"How come she's still alive at the end of the movie?" mused Carson through a mouthful of popcorn.

"What do you mean?" asked Santana, who was absentmindedly petting Kurtsie Kitty on her lap and squinting at the spectacle happening on the screen.

"I mean, wouldn't the neck spinning thing have killed her?" asked Carson. "Nobody can survive that shit."

"You have a point there," said Santana right as Carson's phone vibrated on the coffee table and lit up with a text message from Kurt.

Skype. NOW. Donmt be larte.

The fuck, Kurt? thought Carson as he left Santana and Kurtsie Kitty on the couch and entered his room, where he flopped down on the bed and eagerly opened his laptop. He wondered what was up with the spelling errors in his twin's text.

He had his answer almost immediately as soon as he logged onto Skype and accepted Kurt's call. Kurt made spelling mistakes because he was drunk off his ass.

"Caaarseeeey," he greeted him in a happy, sing-song voice, and Carson wasn't sure whether to laugh at how adorable it was, or be horrified at Kurt's costume. Not because it was a bad costume, but because it was so tight and revealing. He wasn't sure what it was supposed to be, exactly, but he knew that it involved a half unbuttoned shirt and very, very tight pants. He wore THAT around a bunch of horny, drunk guys all night?

"Hi, Kurtsie," he replied, swallowing hard as Kurt heaved a huge breath and one of the buttons on his shirt popped, opening it even more and giving Carson a fantastic view of his chest. "Um... how was the party?"

"Oh my goooood, Carshey, it was fuckin' increbidle," Kurt slurred, grinning at the screen. "I drank soooo much. Man. I don't feel drunk though. I feel reeeally good."

"Um..." said Carson, not sure what to say in reply to that, because Kurt was busy removing his shirt, and Carson suddenly found a lot less blood flowing to his brain.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you all night," continued Kurt, peeling his shirt off and tossing it behind him with uncharacteristic carelessness. "Was so bored, shit. I wanted you there so I could dance with you and touch you and push you onto a bed and just like... just suck you dry, baby."

Carson let out a little gasp at this and quickly took the opportunity while Kurt was busy unzipping his pants to get up and shut the bedroom door. He hurried back to his laptop and watched, mesmerized, as Kurt continued stripping, somehow managing to make it seem graceful even though he was so drunk.

"Kurt, honey, what are you doing?" asked Carson, gulping as Kurt finished removing his pants, which he apparently hadn't been wearing anything underneath.

"W'ats it look like I'm doing, Carsey?" Kurt giggled, leaning into the screen and kissing it. "I wanna play w'you. Play... play sexy stuff. Pleeease?"

Well. Who was Carson to resist that? He swallowed and strained his ears, listening for any sign that Santana had left the couch.

"Oh, hell no, I know they are not keeping that bitch in the house when she's all evil and shit," he heard her shout at the screen. Ok, she's still occupied. Good. Very good indeed, because his dick was practically pounding on the zipper of his jeans, begging to be released.

"Yeaaah, take it oooooff," crooned Kurt as Carson unzipped his own jeans and pulled them down, along with his underwear. His already mostly hard dick stood at attention, bouncing up against his stomach and leaving a dollop of pre-come in its wake. "God, you're already so hard for me. That's my baby. Get the toy, honey."

Carson gasped. "The... the toy?"

"Yes, the toy. Go get it. I wanna see you use it," said Kurt with a smile, sticking one of his fingers in his mouth and sucking on it, which wasn't doing much to settle Carson's erection down. "Go oooon, go get it. Please?"

Carson nodded numbly and hurried over to his dresser. He opened the bottom drawer and found the plain cardboard box he kept hidden under a pile of hoodies, retrieving it and carrying it over to the bed so Kurt could see him. He slowly opened the box and pulled out the toy Kurt was referring to. Before they had separated for the year, they had made the decision together to each purchase their own special sex toy, in order to have something handy to occasionally spice up their cyber sex life. Neither of them had very much idea of what they were doing when it came to purchasing relationship aides, but somehow they had managed to pick out a toy each. They weren't much, just your average run of the mill vibrators specially designed for prostate stimulation. They were almost identical but for their colors (Carson's was blue, Kurt's was green), and usually they only got pulled out every once in a while on special occasions when one or both of the twins was in an especially horny mood.

Apparently, tonight was one of those times.

"Prepare yourself for me," Kurt ordered, settling back in his chair and running his fingers over his own chest. "Wanna seeee you."

Carson nodded, unable to say much because holy shit this is hot, oh my god. He wordlessly reached into his bedside drawer and pulled out the bottle of lube he kept there for occasions such as this before settling himself comfortable on the bed with the laptop in a good position for Kurt to see everything. He uncapped the bottle and poured some lube on his fingers, rubbing them together to warm it up a little.

"Go on, honey. Finger y'erself. Pretend it's my fingers, ok?" pressed Kurt, and Carson smiled and nodded.

"Yes, baby," he replied, reaching his hand down between his legs and circling his own entrance with his fingers.

"That feel good?" asked Kurt in a low, rough voice, and Carson could swear that if he had ovaries, they would have exploded by now.

"Mmm-hmm," he said, nodding as he pressed one finger up into himself and moaned. "Hrrngh..."

"You like my fingers inside you, don't you, Carsey?" Kurt crooned, and Carson could see his twin's hand moving slowly between his legs as Kurt stroked himself. God, this shit is hot. God bless whoever the fuck invented Skype.

"Yes... mmm... love your fingers in...inside me...fuck..." Carson babbled, trying to keep his voice low so as not to alert Santana what was going on. He worked himself up to two fingers, and then three, while Kurt moaned and pumped himself in his fist.

"Mmm, yeah, fuck yourself for me," murmured Kurt. "Use the toy, now. Go on."

Carson didn't have to be told twice. He grabbed the vibrator from the bed and wasted no time lubing it up before teasing it against his hole. He slowly pushed it inside, waiting for his muscles to relax as he eased it in inch by inch, until it was almost fully buried inside.

"How's that feel?" asked Kurt.

"Big," Carson replied, slowly easing the toy out and then thrusting it back in with a bit back moan. "Mmm... not as big as you, though... doesn't feel nearly as good."

"I know, honey, but that can't be helped," said Kurt, his hand moving faster now over his own dick. "Can't wait until I see you for the holidays, you have no... unnngh... no fucking idea what I'm gonna do to you..."

"Oh god," Carson moaned, the very mental image of all the possible things Kurt could mean, combined with the stimulation against his sweet spot by the toy, sending jolts of electric pleasure all throughout his body. He increased his pace, fucking into himself with the toy while Kurt watched him. He imagined that it wasn't a toy. That it was Kurt, that Kurt was in the room with him, on top of him, fucking him right into the mattress.

"Turn it on."

"What?" asked Carson, opening his eyes and looking at his laptop screen, where Kurt was staring at him with hungry eyes.

"I said turn it on," Kurt repeated. "The toy. Turn it on."

Shivering delightedly, Carson followed orders and flipped the switch at the base of the toy. That was all it took to send him straight into orgasm, and he bit his lip as he threw his head back and rode it out, not slowing down his movement of his hand until it became too much. He flopped back against his pillows, easing the toy out of himself and breathing hard as he glanced at Kurt, who apparently had just finished as well.

"God," Carson groaned. "What the fuck... that was... we should..."

"Do that more often? Yeeesh," agreed Kurt, rubbing his own seed into the skin of his stomach, and if Carson hadn't literally just come, he would have been hard again in a second just thinking about licking it up off of him. As if he'd read Carson's mind, Kurt ran a finger through the mess and brought it up to his lips, delicately licking at it while staring at Carson through hooded eyes.

"Mmm... wish you were here to clean this for me."

"Wanky," came a very familiar, very unwelcome voice from out in the hallway, and Carson groaned in annoyance as he and Kurt heard it at the same time.

"I'm gonna kill her," he muttered.

"Good idea," agreed Kurt.

"So," said Sebastian, leaning against the wall of Kurt's room and giving him a cheeky grin while he watched Kurt pack his bags. "Thanksgiving at the old homestead, hmm? What fun, what fun. Planning to fuck Carson into your childhood mattress, or will it be the other way around?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Wouldn't you love to know, pervert," he replied casually, folding one last scarf and adding it to the pile of clothes before zipping his suitcase shut with a flourish. He wasn't about to let anything spoil his good mood, least of all Sebastian with his many inappropriate comments. He'd been pretty surprised when he'd gotten a phone call from his dad several weeks earlier, offering to pay the price of the plane tickets to get him and Carson home to Lima for Thanksgiving.

"It's been a while since I've seen you boys," Burt had said. "It'd be nice to have the whole family over for Thanksgiving, you know? I may or may not have a conference scheduled around Christmas, so this could be the last time I get to see you before Carson's graduation."

Kurt hadn't needed much convincing. He did miss his dad and Carole, and plus, he'd be a complete fool to turn down the opportunity to see Carson after being apart for so long.

"We'll be there," he said. Which brought him to here, in the present time, dragging his suitcase off the bed and breezing past Sebastian on his way to add it to the three suitcases he'd already packed and placed out in the hallway.

"Jeez, Kurt, are you planning to spend the weekend or the rest of your life?" asked Sebastian, letting out a low whistle when he saw the amount of luggage. "Or are you perhaps planning on having to change your clothes a lot?" he asked with a smile and a raise of his eyebrows. "You know... particularly the pants?"

"Oh, shut up," replied Kurt. "Like I'm going to grace you with the intimate details of mine and Carson's sex life."

"You don't need to, sweets. You're not exactly quiet when you have cyber sex," Sebastian pointed out. "Particularly when you're drunk."

"Yeah, I'm gonna go now and pretend that you didn't say any of what you just said," replied Kurt.

"Oh? Tell me, how do you plan to get all of those suitcases out of the building and into a cab?" asked Sebastian curiously. Kurt looked at his pile of luggage, suddenly discouraged. Sebastian had a point. Damn it.

"Need help?" asked Sebastian with a saucy smile, and Kurt groaned inwardly.

"Yeah," he mumbled.

"Thought so," said Sebastian cheerfully, taking the handles of two suitcases while Kurt took the other two. They made their way out of the building and onto the street, where Kurt hailed the first cab he saw passing by and began loading all his luggage into the trunk.

"Thanks," he said as Sebastian loaded his half on top and shut the trunk. "I guess I'll see you on Monday."

"I'll be here. And I'll be waiting eagerly for details of your latest romantic romps," replied Sebastian with a grin.

"Yeah, keep dreaming," said Kurt sarcastically before scrambling inside the cab and giving the driver directions to the nearest airport. He was on top of the world right now. He was going to see his dad and his love in a matter of hours, and nothing and no one was going to get him down. It seemed like the flight lasted forever, but before he knew it, the plane was touching ground in Ohio and he was entering the airport, looking around eagerly for his dad, who had promised to meet him there. He didn't take much notice of the other people around him until he suddenly felt a pair of hands reaching around his face and covering his eyes.

"Guess who," said a familiar voice that instantly made Kurt gasp and his heart start beating rabbit quick.

"Maybe you could help me," Carson continued. "I'm looking for this guy. About 5'10, impeccably styled brown hair, probably wearing a scarf. Devastatingly handsome. Answers to the name Kurt Hummel."

"Oh shut up, you dork," Kurt squealed, turning around and throwing himself into Carson's arms. He hugged him tight, and it just felt so good to be back like this. He never wanted to separate. He would have been more than happy standing there in the middle of the airport forever just hugging Carson in front of everyone. He wondered if he could sneak in a kiss on the lips, and was about to try, but the sound of his dad's happy shout in their direction stopped him.

"Boys!" he said, running up to them and wrapping them both up in a tight hug.

"Ow, Dad. Ribs," said Carson, and Burt let go of them to step back and look them both over carefully.

"Carson, how are things?" he asked, sounding concerned. "Your therapy and medication, they working out for you?"

Carson nodded. "I'm fine, Dad. I feel great. Really." Kurt found his hand and squeezed it affectionately, wanting so badly to kiss him. Come on, Dad, you couldn't have waited a minute or two?

"Good," said Burt, before turning to Kurt and smiling. "How's New York, Kurt? Still kicking butt at that school?"

"Yep," said Kurt.

"You boys doing ok in general? You know... away from each other and all of that?" Burt asked carefully, and Kurt and Carson nodded at the same time. In hindsight, Kurt thought he probably should have sensed that something was up, but at the time he just wanted to change the subject before he blushed too much.

"Fine," he said hurriedly.

"Never better," added Carson.

"Good. Well, let's head on out of here as quick as we can," said Burt, leading them over to the baggage claim as he spoke. "Your stepmother is driving herself nuts with preparing for tomorrow and with getting Finn settled in, and I'm sure she's going to put us all to work as soon as we get home."

"Oh god, I need to be in charge of the stuffing," said Kurt. "I'm the undisputed master of stuffing." He heard a snort from Carson and elbowed him in the ribs.

"Let's prepare for a Lima Thanksgiving, boys," said Burt cheerfully as they walked out of the airport and into the parking lot.

In general, it was one of the best Thanksgivings that Kurt could ever remember having in recent memory. Probably because it was the first time he and Carson had both been home for it in years, and mostly he had so very much to be thankful for that year. And probably a little bit because it was a rare opportunity to have as much sneaky sex with Carson as was humanly possible, forever leaving their mark on every surface of their old bedroom.

"Do you have any idea how many times I wanted to do this when we were in high school?" said Kurt the first moment they had the house to themselves on Thanksgiving night, after the rest of the family had gone out to get an early start on Black Friday shopping. He dragged Carson into the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind them before pushing his twin down onto the bed.

"You?" asked Carson. "What about me? If I had a nickel for every ill timed boner you gave me back then, I swear to god..."

"Oh god, shut up," said Kurt, straddling him on the bed and leaning down to press their lips together in a desperate kiss. It had definitely been way too long since they'd done this, and Little Kurt was definitely insisting on getting the party started as soon as possible. Carson's hands started pawing at Kurt's clothes, and Kurt did the same, the both of them fumbling around and giggling against each other's mouths until they were almost fully undressed, save for their underwear.

"Mmm, can you imagine if we'd gotten to do this in high school?" Kurt whispered against the skin of Carson's neck before he started licking and sucking at it. He made sure not to do it hard enough to leave a hickey, since they were staying with their family and everything. Frankly, he was proud of himself for his own restraint there, because Carson's neck was delicious. "If I could have made you mine every night before we went to sleep? I would never have made it through a school day, I swear. We would have been christening every fucking janitor's closet..." He quickly worked his way down Carson's torso with his lips, unsure of how much time they had before someone came home. He definitely didn't want this to end unfinished.

"Don't forget the choir room... oh fuck," Carson gasped as Kurt quickly pulled off his underwear and tantalizingly suckled at his tip before he went for broke and sank his mouth down over his erection. He savored it, taking him in as deep as he could with every bob of his head and making sure to run his tongue teasingly along the underside while stroking gently at his balls with one hand.

"You're very good at that," Carson gasped as Kurt pulled off of him and yanked his own underwear down and off. He rooted around in one of his suitcases until he found the bottle of lube he'd hidden among all of his clothes and tossed it to Carson.

"Stretch me," he ordered him, and Carson scrambled to obey, popping the cap and drizzling a generous amount of lube onto his fingers while Kurt settled himself on his stomach. He rested his arms on a pillow and waited.

"Mmm, yeah, that choir room," he said in a low voice. "Bet I could have pounded you really well on that piano. Brad would have killed us, but... fuuuuuck," he moaned as he felt a lubed finger circling his entrance before pushing inside. "Yes... fuck... mmmm..." Kurt murmured, pushing back onto Carson's finger and fucking himself onto it. "Two... gimme two... oh god..." Carson followed instructions, shoving two fingers up into him and quickly working his way to three until Kurt was practically screaming into the pillow with pleasure as his twin's talented fingers brushed up again and again against his prostate.

"Enough... enough, just f-fuck me, please," Kurt gasped, unable to take anymore waiting. He heard Carson uncapping the lube bottle again, and then there was a very slick cock pressed up against him as Carson positioned himself on top of his back and pushed in.

"Don't go slow, just fuck me," Kurt begged. "Please... oh..." Carson did as he was told, burying his face in Kurt's neck and thrusting into him like a wild animal as Kurt moaned and gasped out his pleasure. Every nerve was on fire, every inch of his insides burned with the feeling of Carson filling him up, and he loved it. He could feel himself skyrocketing toward an orgasm quicker than he would have liked, and he desperately tried to think of unpleasant things to take the edge off a bit. He didn't want this to end yet. Or ever.

"Oh... uh... god... fuck..." he babbled as Carson plowed into him, and despite his best efforts, he could feel that this was definitely going to be ending soon. "Oh god, Carson, hrrn..."

"Shhh," hissed Carson, who had stilled his movements. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" asked Kurt, but even before he'd finished his sentence he could hear exactly what Carson was talking about. Specifically, the sound of car doors slamming shut out in the driveway.

"Shit," Carson groaned.

"Don't you dare stop fucking me," Kurt demanded, reaching back and batting weakly at Carson's ass. "Keep.,.. keep... oh!" Carson had begun thrusting again, slower this time, but still rough, and Kurt couldn't help the moan that escaped his lips just as the front door downstairs opened.

"Oh god, shhhh," Carson hissed, and suddenly Kurt found a hand clapped tightly over his mouth as Carson fucked into him. Apparently, this did it for Kurt, because he muffled his screams and moans of pleasure into Carson's hand as he came, harder than he ever remembered coming in his entire life. Carson followed him several thrusts later, collapsing on top of him for a minute before they both scrambled up and began quickly throwing their clothes back on.

There goes THOSE pants, Kurt thought with a sigh as he got dressed, but he couldn't really say he minded. He exchanged a smile with Carson as they heard voices talking downstairs and bags being set down.

"Best Thanksgiving ever?" said Carson.

"Best Thanksgiving ever," agreed Kurt.

He should have known it would be too good to last very long, though. The last day of their visit started off on a bad enough note when the twins took the time to pay their grandmother a visit at the assisted living home. Her health was rapidly declining, and it showed. She didn't remember either of them at all, not even a comment about how they looked familiar. Kurt didn't know how to process his emotions, and he was used to seeing Carson looking sad, but not quite like this.

"Hey," he whispered softly as they left the home that day, slipping his hand into Carson's and rubbing his thumb gently over his twin's knuckles. "Hey, it'll be ok."

Carson hadn't said anything, just kissed the side of Kurt's head and pulled him in close by the waist.

And then a much, much bigger bomb was dropped on them that night. They were busy packing their bags for their respective flights home the following morning when there was a knock on their door and Burt stuck his head into the room cautiously.

"Hey," he said, sounding nervous as he cleared his throat and looked around. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," replied Kurt, waving him inside. Burt entered the room and shut the door behind him as he stuck his hands in his pockets and looked down at the floor.

"Maybe you boys should sit down," he said after a moment of silence. Kurt was instantly alarmed. Their dad hardly ever sounded so serious. In fact, the last time he'd looked that nervous had been when their mother's prognosis took a turn for the worse and he had sat them down to tell them the bad news.

"What is it, Dad?" asked Kurt, exchanging a nervous look with Carson as they sat down beside each other on the bed. "Is... is it Grandma?"

"What? Oh... no," said Burt, shaking his head. "No, it's um... well... gosh, you know, I just don't know how to bring this up. It's not exactly a conversation I ever wanted to be having with you."

Kurt felt an uneasy feeling beginning to stir in his stomach. "Dad, what is it?"

Burt took a deep breath and pulled out the chair from Carson's old desk, settling himself into it and focusing down on his hands. "I hadn't wanted to bring this up, and I almost didn't, but... I've decided that it's probably best if we just clear the air about it," he began, quite visibly nervous now. "Kurt, I had a visit a couple of weeks ago."

"From who?" asked Carson.

"Well... from Blaine," answered Burt quickly. Kurt felt his stomach turning to ice, and his hand instinctively reached for Carson's, who took it and squeezed it. Oh god. Oh god, no. Please, no. Oh god, Carson was right when we discussed... when... when we said that it was weird that Blaine had been so silent all this time and that Dad should hear it from us if he was going to hear it at all, and... FUCK.

"Dad," he managed to croak out, but Burt held up a hand quickly to stop him.

"Just... just let me finish. Now, I won't go into the nitty gritty details of how that conversation with Blaine went," their father continued. "Suffice it to say that after everything he's said, he's not welcome back in my home ever again. But the point of the matter is...um... I guess that what I'm asking is... do you two have anything you'd like to tell me?"

Kurt felt sick. He was suddenly very, very hot all over, and never before in his entire life had he wished quite so hard for the floor to just open beneath him and swallow him up. Next to him, Carson clearly wasn't faring much better. He was white as a sheet, and Kurt could actually feel the bed shaking from how hard Carson was. The two of them were silent, holding tight to each other's hand and looking with wide eyes down at the floor. Please. Oh god, please just open up and take us both.

"Dad," Carson suddenly spoke up, in a voice so small and scared that Kurt could barely hear it. "Dad, we... we..." He couldn't get any further, and Kurt could see the effort he was putting into not crying right there on the spot.

"I know," said Burt quietly, heaving a huge sigh. "I've known for a long time."

Kurt snapped his head up sharply. "What?"

Burt sighed. "Look, boys, it's not like I wanted to know, you know? I tried very hard, for a lot of years, to lie to myself and say that you were just very close because you're twins, or because you were sticking together to help each other through the loss of your mom, or because you didn't have anyone else who understood you as much as each other. I wanted very badly to believe those things. Even to believe that it was just a phase or something. But as you got older, and it just wasn't settling down, even with Kurt dating Blaine, well... I don't know what I thought."

Kurt felt hot tears stinging his eyes as he struggled not to break down. He wasn't sure if he felt humiliated or just sad. Or both. Goddammit, Blaine.

"All I want to know is if it's true," continued Burt quietly. "Is there, uh... is there something going on here now? Between you two?"

There was absolute silence in the room for several minutes. Kurt had no idea what to say, and Carson probably didn't either. He didn't even want to think about what this must be doing to Carson's anxiety.

"Dad," Carson said at last, having lost the battle with his own tears. "Dad, we... oh god, please don't hate us..."

"Hey," said Burt, getting up immediately from his chair and crossing over to them, wrapping them both in a hug. "Don't you ever think for a second that I hate you. Either one of you. You got that?"

"I love him, Dad," Carson sobbed into their father's shoulder.

"We can't help the way we feel," Kurt added, surprised at the strength and control of his own voice, considering the situation. "I tried to lie to myself too, and it didn't... it didn't end well..." He just had no idea what else to say. What was there to say, really? Everybody present knew the truth. He just hoped with all his heart, for his own sake, but especially for Carson's, who was already so fragile anyway, that their father would be kind.

"Look," said Burt, letting go of them after a moment and settling himself back into the desk chair. "I wish I knew what to say to make everything ok, but I've got to tell you, I honestly have no idea what to say here. I'm not going to pretend to be completely ok with this. I hope you understand what I mean when I say that I'm not sure if I can really process this information immediately. Or if I'll ever be able to really... you know... accept it. NOT that I don't still love you just as much," he added quickly. "I love both of you more than anything else in the world, and I want you to understand that. I want you to be happy, and clearly you... you make each other happy. I just... this is a lot, you know. For me. It's gonna take time. A lot of time. I love you, but I'm not there yet. I'm gonna try. You better believe I'm gonna try my hardest. Ok? Don't... don't think I'm not."

Kurt felt Carson burrowing into his side, holding onto his hand for dear life as he cried softly. His arm went instinctively around Carson's shoulder as they both sat there, too dumbfounded to move or say much. Burt got back up from the chair and hugged them again, and Kurt could see now that he'd also been holding back from crying.

"It'll be ok, boys," he said quietly. "We'll all be ok."

There weren't many more words exchanged that night, after Burt had said good night to them and left them alone. Nor did they sleep very much. They simply held on tightly to each other as they lay in bed. Kurt felt safe as long as he had Carson to hold onto, and he knew, without Carson having to tell him so, that his twin felt the same.

It'll be ok. We'll all be ok.

To say the least, their father knowing their not so well kept secret did absolutely nothing to quell Carson's anxiety. In fact, he seemed to be suffering more attacks than ever before, even when it wasn't raining. It sucked, and Dr. McNeil changing his dosage took forever to take any effect. It was humiliating having both Kurt and Santana worrying over him every time he had an episode, and he wished fervently that he could just be a normal person again. Not that he remembered what that was like, exactly.

Thankfully, he did have Christmas to look forward to. Since their dad indeed had a conference scheduled for the week of Christmas, the twins decided to just meet up in New York for the holiday. Carson had a feeling that neither of them were quite ready to face going back home to Lima right now, anyway, even despite the fact that Burt was, for all intents and purposes, acting as though nothing had happened. He still called Carson on a weekly basis, still fussed at him to take care of himself, and still filled him in on what was going on at home and asked him how Kurt was doing. In other words, he was being the same dad he'd always been.

Still, though. Carson wasn't sure he was ready to go back home at the moment, so it was just as well that they had no reason to.

Sebastian, of course, was just pleased as punch to have Carson (and Kurtsie Kitty, whom Carson refused to leave behind in Chicago by himself) over for Christmas. Carson was pretty sure that this was only because it gave him ample opportunity to make a plethora of twincest jokes, but he didn't even care. All he cared about was that he was going to be spending Christmas with Kurt, their first Christmas as an actual, together couple, and he was determined to enjoy himself.

"This is gonna be so much fun, boys," said Sebastian excitedly the minute Carson had settled in and put his things away in Kurt's bedroom. "My home is your home. Feel free to screw each other's brains out anywhere. I assure you, I will not mind. By the way, that... that thing," he said, pointing to Kurtsie Kitty, who was wandering around looking at his new surroundings with a confused, slightly panicked face. "It does know how to use a litter box, right?"

Carson rolled his eyes. "Yes, Sebastian, he does. He does normally live in a city, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, sure," said Sebastian, reaching down to pet gently at Kurtsie Kitty's head. "What's the little guy's name, anyway?"

"Chris," Carson answered quickly as Kurt snorted. "His name is Chris."

Of course, what with his and Kurt's track record of basically being rabbits in human clothing, it didn't take very long for them to be taking Sebastian up on his offer to have sex anywhere, although they did confine it to Kurt's bedroom only. Even though Sebastian had plans the first night of Carson's visit and therefore wasn't around to cockblock them, they were taking no chances.

"Nice... mmmph... nice bed," Carson panted, trying to balance himself on his knees and elbows while Kurt knelt behind him, grasping him by the hips and pounding relentlessly into him as though his life depended on it. "Very comfortable... fuck."

"I know, right?" answered Kurt, giving a particularly hard thrust into Carson at just the right angle and making Carson let out a cross between a squeak and a scream. "I have no idea what material this mattress is... mmm.. made of, but I... fuck...I think that when we have our own apartment, we need to find one just... just like... uh... uh... god..." He gave up talking and flipped them over, pulling Carson's legs up and wrapping them around his waist before he plunged back in and began fucking into him, hard, fast., and desperate. His hands were holding Carson's wrists up over his head, and apparently being held down was a thing for Carson, because he nearly blacked out when he came, barely even noticing when Kurt followed him, filling him up with a pleasant warmth.

"I think we both have bondage kinks," said Carson after a moment of silence, as they lay there trying to catch their breath in the afterglow.

"I agree," said Kurt. "I like having your hand on my mouth, and you like being held down. We're both kinky bastards."

"Not that I mind this," added Carson.

"Definitely not.

"Shower?"

"Shower."

"Looking for a third person to join you in the shower?" came a voice from out in the hallway, and Carson and Kurt groaned at the same time.

"It's only five more months," Kurt reminded him, leaning over and planting a kiss on his cheek. "And then we'll be free to have sex any time we want with no risk of interruptions."

"What a glorious day that will be," mumbled Carson.

Christmas came and went without much fanfare. Kurt gave him a new, impossibly soft and warm hoodie, and Carson gave him a gorgeous blue scarf he'd picked out with Santana's help.

"I thought it matched your eyes," he said, blushing when Kurt opened it.

"It's beautiful," Kurt said, giving him a radiant smile before wrapping his arms around his neck and capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. "I love it. And I love you. And this Christmas means so much to me. I spent so many of them wishing that I could just have the only thing I ever really wanted, and now I finally have it." He kissed him once more and pressed their foreheads together, reaching one hand up to cup the side of Carson's face gently.

"And you'll always have it," Carson promised. Always.

Before Carson knew it, and before he was ready, it was New Years and his visit with Kurt would be coming to an end. The very thought of not seeing Kurt again until graduation made his heart hurt, and he tried his hardest to savor every remaining moment they had together, knowing that it had to last him a long time. He was even able to ignore the fact that Santana spent the last few days of the holidays in New York with them, bonding with Sebastian over their mutual love of being perverts.

"How many places in here have they fucked in, exactly?" she asked him while Kurt and Carson sat cuddled together on the living room couch, trying to ignore her.

"I can't be sure, as I haven't exactly been home the whole vacation, but I'd say at least four, not including Kurt's room," replied Sebastian. "Aint that right, boys?"

"Stop," Carson groaned.

"That's not what you were saying to Kurt last night," Sebastian quipped, and Carson saw Santana give him a high five out of the corner of his eye.

"Rabbits," said Santana. "By the way, where's Kurtsie Kitty?"

Sebastian let out a guffaw. "Who?"

"Carson's cat," said Santana. "That little bastard loves me."

"Kurtsie Kitty, huh?" snorted Sebastian. "Oh my god."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it the fuck up. Santana, how the hell are you even here?" grumbled Carson. "Plane tickets this time of year cost balls."

"Never mind that. Point is I'm here," answered Santana. "And it's almost midnight on New Year's Eve and I wants to see you get your sweet twin kisses on."

"And despite the fact that her habit of adding an 'S' where it's not needed drives me up the proverbial wall, I agree with Santana," said Sebastian. "Come on, boys. We're waiting."

"Ball's dropping, Hummels," Santana said gleefully. "Come on, let's see you get your mack on."

Carson exchanged an exasperated look with Kurt and sighed. "What the hell is it with you two and seeing us be intimate? I don't understand it."

"It's hot," Santana and Sebastian answered at the same time.

"Let's just give them what they want," said Kurt quietly, leaning in just as the clock struck twelve and pressing his lips softly against Carson's. Clearly he had intended it to be a rather chaste kiss, considering their audience, but it quickly deepened, and Carson almost forgot that there were other people in the room until a loud "Aaaaaaaw" snapped him out of his reverie.

"I hate you both," he groaned as he and Kurt parted from the kiss. Kurt tucked his legs up underneath himself and cuddled close to Carson, rolling his eyes in their friends' direction.

"Nah, you love us," said Santana. "Let's not forget that without me, you both would probably still be pining away for each other in your diaries or whatever. You owe me."

As much as Carson hated to admit it, she did kind of have a point there.

Maybe she won't mind helping me plan a proposal, then.

After all the excitement of seeing Carson for Christmas, January seemed to drag on forever for Kurt. He went to all his classes and did his best at Vogue, but his full focus and attention just wasn't in it. He was far too busy thinking about the upcoming spring, in which Carson would graduate from Northwestern and the two of them would finally be moving in together as a fully realized, adult couple.

And the more Kurt thought about it, the more he decided that he really wanted to take their relationship to the next level. The ultimate level, he supposed, because where else was there to go once you were married?

The problem, of course, was that he had absolutely no idea how the hell they would even go about doing that. He stayed up many a night pondering it, but not coming up with any solution. They couldn't legally get married, obviously. Kurt supposed there weren't a lot of states falling all over themselves to grant marriage equality to related couples. So that was definitely out. That was just as well. He hated dealing with courts anyway, after how long it took to get a restraining order put on Blaine (they had finally gotten one, though, and Blaine was now legally forbidden from being anywhere near him, Carson, or their father).

Anyway. Marriage. Even if they could somehow get married (maybe with a commitment ceremony, Kurt decided), well... who would they tell about it? Santana and Sebastian, obviously. They would support them and be happy for them. But what about their dad? Would he support it? He was slowly coming around to accepting their relationship at all, but what would he do when they decided to marry or commit or whatever they did? Would he even accept it? Kurt had the uneasy feeling that a marriage might just be a little too much for their dad to swallow.

What would they do about a wedding, then? What would they do if they ever came across someone who wasn't nearly so laid back and accepting of their relationship as Santana or Sebastian or, to a lesser extent but still as much as he could, their father? What would they do about a lot of things?

"I say just worry about yourselves and your own relationship, and to hell with what anyone else thinks of it," said Sebastian wisely when Kurt, for some reason he wasn't entirely sure of, brought it up to him one cold February morning as they sat across from one another at Starbucks. "At the end of the day, all that matters is that you guys love each other, right?"

"I hate when you say things that make sense," replied Kurt, sipping thoughtfully on his coffee.

"Glad to be of help," said Sebastian with a smile. "So, are you going to be getting married any time soon? I mean, are you going to wait a while after Carson graduates, or what?"

"Good question," murmured Kurt. He really, honestly didn't know.

"Ok, well, how about Valentine's Day?" asked Sebastian. "Anything special planned for that?"

"Well, not really," said Kurt regretfully. "Neither of us can afford to fly to visit the other, so I think we're just going to skip this year and make up for it next year when we live together. Which really sucks, because it's our first Valentine's Day as an actual couple."

"Hmmm," said Sebastian thoughtfully. "Interesting..."

"What's interesting?" asked Kurt.

"The fact that I never actually gave you a Christmas present," replied Sebastian, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling something out, which he handed over to Kurt.

"Is... is that a plane ticket?" asked Kurt, gaping at the slip of paper in his hand.

"It is indeed," replied Sebastian with a smile. "Go to Chicago this weekend. Spend Valentine's Day with Carson."

"I... but... you don't have to..." Kurt babbled, looking awkwardly from the ticket to Sebastian and back again.

"I know, but for some strange reason, I feel weirdly invested in your adorable little relationship," said Sebastian. "And if you ever tell anyone I have a soft side, I'll deny it until my dying day."

"Thank you," said Kurt, still staring wide eyed at the ticket in his hand. "Seriously, just... thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"This still doesn't mean you're getting a threesome, though."

"Damn it."

Carson wasn't sure whether to blame his recent bout of melancholia on his mental illness or on the fact that it was only February and there were still three long months to go until he would graduate from college and be free to live with Kurt. All he knew at the moment was that Valentine's Day weekend was coming up and, much as he hated to admit that it bothered him, he was going to be spending it mostly alone, with only a Skype call to Kurt to mark the occasion. He supposed it was ok, though. Next year, he reminded himself, he and Kurt would be living together and he would be able to go all out and plan a nice, romantic Valentine's Day for his twin.

Just think of next year. Just think of next year.

He found himself saying that to himself a lot lately. Whenever he woke up, gasping and sweating, in the middle of a panic attack. When he came home early one day and walked right past Santana and an unnamed woman making sure that he would never look at vibrators the same way again. While he took Kurtsie Kitty to the vet to get neutered, unable to put it off any longer since the cat was getting increasingly restless, and spraying was likely to be the next step if Carson didn't take care of the problem. While he cuddled him and spent extra time making sure Kurtsie Kitty felt loved and doted on afterwards.

"Poor kitty, did mean old Carson cut your balls?" Santana cooed at him. "That monster."

"Oh, just shut up. I feel guilty enough as it is," Carson muttered.

Just think of next year.

And now, on the day before Valentine's Day, to add insult to injury, it was raining out. Not just any rain, either. It was a real bitch of a downpour, and Carson was honestly surprised that he was still alive, because his chest was so tight and he was having such a hard time breathing. This was one of his worse panic attacks, for sure. He felt bad for Santana, who, to her credit, usually handled his panic attacks nicely and never made him feel like a burden for it.

"Where's Kurt?" he whined, holding his head in his hands and rocking back and forth as Santana tried calling Kurt for the fifth time. "Where is he? He always answers his phone, especially at night. Oh god, what if he's dead? What if he's dead and he's not ever coming back and..."

"Shhhh, Carson, calm down," said Santana, putting her arms around him and letting him rest his head on her shoulder. "I'm sure he isn't dead. He probably just doesn't have his phone on him, or the battery's dead. It happens. He'll call."

But Kurt didn't call, and Carson ended up being half dragged and half carried into his own bed later by Santana, who tucked him in and turned out the light before leaving the room.

Wish Kurt was here, he thought drowsily before drifting off to sleep. My chest hurts and I want Kurt to hold me.

The next thing he knew, his eyes were fluttering open and there was something not quite right about his bed. He shifted a little, trying to figure out what it was while he settled back against the soft body behind him.

Wait a minute. Body?

He tiredly turned himself around and squinted into the darkness of the room. He thought he could make out Kurt's face on the pillow beside him, but... but that wasn't possible. He had to be dreaming, because Kurt was in New York, and he was here, and they weren't together right now.

"Kurt?" he whispered, reaching one hand out to touch the face in front of him. He was expecting to feel air, because hallucinations weren't real. But no, he felt skin. And hair. And there were eyes blinking at him.

"Kurt?" he repeated, his eyes flying open as he realized that he wasn't, in fact, alone in his bed. "Kurt, oh my god! What are you doing here?"

Kurt smiled and reached one hand out to stroke his hair. "I wanted to surprise you for Valentine's Day, honey. I... I'm sorry that you couldn't call me earlier. I was on the plane, and Santana told me you had an attack, and... god I'm so sorry."

Carson shook his head. "No, fuck that, I don't..." He reached his hand out to touch Kurt's face one more time, just to make sure he was real. "I wished you were here. Before I fell asleep."

Kurt wrapped his arms around him and placed a soft kiss on his lips. "I'm here now, baby. Go back to sleep. You must be exhausted."

He was, actually. He yawned and settled his head on Kurt's chest, letting the beating of his twin's heart lull him off to sleep.

They didn't end up leaving the bed for most of the weekend, and Carson wouldn't have had it any other way. There was no more perfect way to spend Valentine's Day than to be held, and cherished, and worshipped as Kurt made love to him over and over again, their hearts beating together and their hands and lips joined. He didn't even care that Santana was ready with a barrage of jokes at their expense when they eventually had to leave the room to eat. Nothing mattered except that they were together, and he was happy.

Yep. Definitely gonna marry him.

He wasn't kidding, either. He'd made up his mind over the summer, but by Valentine's Day he was definitely sure that he wanted to marry Kurt as soon as he possibly could. He just needed to make everything perfect first.

So he juggled his schedule around a bit, managing to obtain a part time job doing filing in an office four days a week, when he wasn't in classes. Thankfully, his class load for his last semester was pretty light, which made working not as much of a burden as it otherwise might have been. He needed the job, though, because he needed to save up money for an engagement ring. He wanted to propose to Kurt right after graduation, and he would be damned if anything was going to stop him. Not even his own self doubt. It was a rough spring for him. It rained practically every damn day, and he thought for sure that the panic attacks would never end.

What the fuck am I thinking? I can't ask Kurt to marry me while I'm like this. Why the fuck would he want to be bound to spend the rest of his life with me when I can't even handle a drizzle outside?

"Snap the fuck out of it," Santana told him one day in April as she dragged him by the hand into a jewelry store so they could comparison shop for rings. "You're gonna propose and it's gonna be gorgeous."

"Oh, you're planning to propose?" asked the girl behind the counter, looking from Carson to Santana with a schmoopy smile on her face. "Are you two the happy couple?"

Santana snorted. "Oh, honey. No. No, he's going to propose to his man."

"Oh," said the girl, smiling over at Carson. "Who's the lucky guy?"

"My childhood sweetheart," Carson deadpanned, gazing at the ring display and feeling suddenly very overwhelmed. "We've been together for over twenty years."

"That is so sweet, oh my god!" squealed the salesgirl, but Carson barely heard her. He was too busy looking at a particular ring that had caught his eye in the middle of the display. It was silver, with a tiny blue stone in the middle that would match Kurt's eyes perfectly. He knew it had to be that ring. It was calling to him. It had to be that ring.

Oh god, he thought excitedly as he watched the ring being placed into a small, velvet box for him to take home later that afternoon (after Santana had successfully bitched her way into getting him a pretty good price on it). Oh god, this is it. I'm really a crazy person who's going to propose to my brother.

I hope he says yes.

Kurt had never been prouder in his life than he was that Saturday afternoon in late May as he sat in the auditorium watching the graduating class of 2015 file across the stage to collect their diplomas. It was both Carson's graduation day and their birthday, and Kurt felt a lump in his throat as he realized what this meant for them. They were free now. They were free to move in together and actually start their lives, and Kurt was so happy he was pretty sure he was ready to burst.

"I'm so proud of you!" he squealed as he ran up to Carson after the ceremony and threw himself into his twin's arms. "My smart, degree holding baby."

"I'm gonna puke rainbows," said Santana, walking up to them and patting Carson on the shoulder.

"Oh, shut up," said Kurt. "I just watched my man graduate from college, cut me some slack here."

"Well, while you two celebrate, I'm gonna bounce. There's a pre-med graduate with a really nice rack over there that I gots my eye on," said Santana, pointing. "See you two horny bunnies later. Don't fuck anywhere I wouldn't fuck."

Kurt rolled his eyes and smiled as he hugged Carson tight."So proud of you, baby," he whispered in his ear, looking around carefully before sneaking a kiss on his lips. "I'm never letting you go again, now. You know that, right?"

"I know," said Carson, biting his lip and taking Kurt's hands. "Hey, um... after we go out for dinner, I got us a hotel room. Is that ok? I thought... well... we just need a little privacy is all..."

"Of course," said Kurt. He'd happily go anywhere with Carson right now, even if it was to Mars, or the deepest ocean trench. Just as long as they were together.

They picked a nice restaurant for dinner, and Carson seemed very fidgety and nervous throughout the meal. Kurt honestly began to worry about him midway through and wondered if they shouldn't leave.

"Carsey?" he asked, concerned. "Are you ok? Are you going to have an attack?"

"No... no, I'm fine," Carson insisted. "I've never been better."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Kurt didn't quite believe him, especially once they'd paid their bill and headed for the hotel. Carson's nervousness almost seemed to triple in magnitude, so much so that Kurt was worried he might faint before they'd even reached the floor that their room was on.

"Honey, what's wrong?" he asked, watching as Carson fumbled with the key card to the room. "Are you sure you're..."

He stopped in mid-sentence when he entered the room and saw what it looked like. It was... well, it was fancy, but it was still just a hotel room. What made it stand out, though, were the hundreds of soft, purple lilac petals and deep red rose petals scattered all over the place, along with the bottles of champagne and sparkling cider resting in a bucket of ice and the white candles placed on the tables and dresser. Kurt's mouth flew open and he watched, dumbfounded, as Carson scrambled around lighting the candles before walking back over to him and taking a deep breath.

"Carson?" asked Kurt.

"Kurt," said Carson, taking Kurt's hands in his own and looking nervously down at them before looking up to meet Kurt's eyes. "Um... ok, wow, this is the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but... ok... shit... this is going badly..."

"Carson, what are you..."

"Ok, Kurt, here's the thing," Carson continued, finally seeming to find his voice. "I love you. Like... I really, really love you. And I know that I'm far from perfect and that I have my share of problems and stuff, but I really think I'm getting better, and, well.. you're just... you're perfect. You're it for me, and I think you know that. I don't even want to consider the possibility of spending my life with anyone else."

Kurt swallowed, his stomach in knots as he suddenly realized where all this was going.

"And I know that I'm not exactly the perfect Disney prince that you always wanted when you were watching those movies growing up," added Carson. "But, if you'll let me... well... I'd like to try my best." He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a small box, and Kurt had to bite his lip to choke back a sob as Carson knelt down on one knee and very carefully opened it, revealing a gorgeous silver ring with a small blue stone.

"What I'm asking is... will you marry me?"