Part Two

"Hummel, you better have a damn good reason for still being in bed at this hour. What the hell, dude? You know we're supposed to be down at this shindig and Rachel will go all bridesmaid-zilla on you if you're not down here in the next thirty seconds. She's standing right next to me, dude, and it's fucking terrifying. Ow, Rachel, why'd you hit me?"

"Hello, Noah, how are you?" Kurt asked, shooting out of bed to grab clothes and brush his hair. Rachel Berry's wrath was not something he wanted to be exposed to with a headache from crying himself to sleep. "So exactly how angry is she? I mean, she hits you on a regular basis for insulting her so I can't really take anything from that."

"Fuck you, Hummel," Puck spat. "Just fuck you. Not in that way, though." Kurt rolled his eyes at the man's need for clarification, slotting the phone into the crook of his neck to button his shirt, attempting to shove his feet into complicated boots without the use of his hands - an endeavour that, sadly, failed miserably.

"And you felt the need to reiterate that fact why?" he asked, giving up and slinging his foot up onto the bed to fix his boots. "Anyone would need to have a serious bout of misjudgement to sleep with you, Noah. I ask you again, how angry is she?"

"Well, I see someone's taken their morning bitch pill," Puck said coolly. "She's angry. She's standing here glaring at me and tapping her foot and I swear it's burning my brain, Kurt. You need to move your ass and get it here before she starts shooting lasers out of her eyes."

"Okay, okay, I'm running out of the house right now," Kurt promised, lowering the phone for a moment to yell out a goodbye to Burt and Carole in the kitchen. "But if I look like crap for going out with everyone tonight I am holding you personally responsible and I will castrate you."

"Hang up the phone, dude," Puck told him. "Driving while on the phone is illegal and also dangerous. Rachel told me to tell you or she'd shave my head herself. I don't need to go through that again."

"We're graduates, Noah, you don't need to uphold a reputation as a badass anymore," Kurt said disdainfully before hanging up, starting the car and driving as fast as he could within the law to the church where Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pilsbury were holding their wedding rehearsal.

The moment he pulled into one of the only available parking spaces, every member of glee club, past, graduated and present, having decided they simply could not car-share with the sheer importance of having a perfectly silent space to psych themselves up for the nightmare to come, various women swooped on him. "Keep cool, I have a suit for you and we can fix your hair before the rehearsal starts," Tina promised, yanking him out and bodily shoving him towards the church doors. "We have about fifteen minutes, though you might want to talk to Rachel first before she spontaneously combusts with fury."

"I have never seen Puck look quite so terrified," Mercedes giggled as they passed various knots of people, all calling out to Kurt with variations of how late he was and questions of the reason for his lateness. "And you know, hon, there's a difference between being fashionably late for a party or something and nearly forcing us to postpone starting Schue's wedding rehearsal."

"It's not my fault, I was still asleep when Puck called," Kurt said petulantly as the pair steered him into a side room, Tina yanking the garment bag protecting his suit open and Mercedes flying at his hair with a brush and a can of hairspray.

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel was still asleep at one o'clock in the afternoon?" Mercedes asked incredulously, yanking at his hair with perhaps unnecessary ferocity. "Were you in your dad's beer or something? Were you in a comatose state? Because there is no way the fabulous guy I know would sleep so late."

"I just had a bit of a crazy weekend," Kurt muttered. Mercedes arched an eyebrow at him and continued to tug at his hair while Tina fussily smoothed imaginary creases in his suit, gesturing for him to start getting undressed in order to put on the outfit and ready himself for what was bound to be a meticulously planned wedding rehearsal. Too bad the regimented timetable would go to pot the moment the seventeen of them confronted it. And, for once, the notoriously and unhelpfully perceptive pair hadn't noticed that he'd just made the biggest understatement since Finn had given himself a concussion and claimed it was 'just a little bump' right before he fainted and had to be rushed to hospital in an ambulance.

He brushed his fingers lightly across where his high collar hid the vivid violet bruise low on his neck, his eyes glazing over as he thought of water pounding over entwined bodies until the hot ran freezing, rough hands parting his thighs, trembling violently as a stranger who felt so familiar swayed above him, kissing him so passionately as he shook and surrendered to the waves of pleasure washing over him, collapsing in a sweaty tangle of limbs with the same name fresh and sweet on his lips.

"Kurt! Earth to Kurt Hummel!" Tina called, waving a hand in front of his face. "Get undressed and put your suit on. If you want to protect your modesty go behind that screen, even if it is nothing we haven't seen before." Not wanting the gossip addicts he called friends to see the lovebites across his chest and hips, not to mention his half-hard state with the memories of the most unforgettable night in his nineteen years, Kurt ducked behind the screen to a gale of giggles from the pair.

Ten minutes later the three of them were rushing out to be screamed at by an irate Rachel, having already sewed up a rip in Sugar's dress and yelled at Sam for walking in with tangled hair. "Okay, okay, we have to get the rehearsal in motion!" she shouted, clapping her hands at those slumping across chairs and chattering lightly.

"Oh come on, Rachel!" Santana exclaimed from her comfortable station lying across three chairs with her head in Brittany's lap. "Isn't Ms. Pilsbury supposed to be the bridezilla?"

"It's the first of many weddings of our happy little family and everything should go exactly to plan accordingly!" Rachel exclaimed indignantly, rearranging her skirts around her legs and sitting down with an angry huff.

As soon as the duo Kurt had hoped to avoid being in the direct sight of caught him in their glazed stare, they both immediately perked up, sitting up straighter. Puck waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Santana smirked knowingly. "Is there a particular reason you're walking like you've got a stick up your ass, Hummel?" she asked.

"Maybe because you did have a stick up your ass," Puck added, sniggering to himself. Rachel raised an eyebrow and immediately the other sixteen in the room were sitting up straight, sweeping their eyes up and down Kurt's body in meticulous assessment. "Who was it, Hummel? Who's this secret boyfriend you're not telling us about?"

"There's no one," Kurt replied in a carefully level monotone, while visions of slick skin sliding together and honey-smooth eyes catching his own as he left half-moons carved into smooth olive skin with the strength of his grip danced through his head. "You're delusional."

"That limp you're walking around with definitely isn't delusional, Hummel," Santana immediately replied brashly. "Who is he? And don't think we don't have ways of forcing it out of you if you continue to refuse to tell us."

"What are you, the Mafia?" Mercedes asked, arching an eyebrow at the inquisitive pair. Kurt smiled in thanks at her, but felt differently a moment later when she looked him up and down suspiciously and added, "Actually, now they mention it, you are walking funny.

"Tell me, boo, I wanna know everything!" Brittany exclaimed enthusiastically, jumping out of her chair to bob excitedly up and down on the balls of her feet.

Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed at the absurdity of the men and women he called friends before he said quickly, "Fine, look, as Noah and Santana guessed, I am no longer a virgin. Now can we please focus on getting through this wedding rehearsal without killing each other?"

As he made to leave and fetch their bride and groom to start the rehearsal everyone had been so adamant about starting on time before Puck and Santana had brought of the subject of his new sexual experiences, Mercedes stood in front of him, folding her arms with an unimpressed look. "Nuh-uh, white boy, ain't no way you're getting out of telling us everything that easy. Who is he? More importantly, why didn't you tell any of us about him?"

"I told you, there's no one," Kurt insisted, worrying he'd soon be forced to show his hand and tell them the truth of the man who had succeeded in taking his virginity. "I don't have a boyfriend and I never have. I'd like to have one, but I don't. Noah, straighten your tie before Rachel comes at you like bridesmaid-zilla."

"Kurt Hummel had some random hook-up?" Puck asked incredulously, attempting to straighten the offending accessory but only succeeding in making it worse. "I never thought I'd see the day. Who was it? Do you even know his name?"

"I take offence to that, Puckerman," Kurt said haughtily. "Of course I know his name, I'm not a trashy slut of a man. Um…do you promise not to judge me too harshly if I tell you who it was?"

"We would never judge you," Brittany said seriously, squeezing his arm reassuringly. "You're too special to be judged." Confronted by fourteen hopeful faces, one awkward and one still appearing slightly disgusted by the turn to conversation had taken, Kurt took a deep breath to compose himself.

"I hired a prostitute."

There a shriek as Tina tumbled backwards off her seat. Artie doubled over laughing, wrapping his arms around his belly. Rachel's eyebrows flew up and disappeared under her hair. Finn made a face that told everyone exactly how uncomfortable he was with this new revelation. Mike and Matt wore identical expressions of one part confusion and one part impressed respect. Mercedes' jaw fell open, Sam mirroring her a moment later. Quinn spluttered with unflattering laughter. Sugar, Joe and Rory all looked at him in a way that informed him he had just corrupted their innocence forever, as if spending time in the same choir room as both Puck and Santana hadn't already. Brittany grinned brightly and squeezed his hand happily. Lauren smirked and wiggled her eyebrows in a manner eerily reminiscent of Puck's earlier gesture. Puck crowed in triumph and looked suitably impressed. Santana smirked suggestively and looked right at where he was absolutely sure his collar covered the lovebite on his neck.

"You did what?" Mercedes practically screamed once she'd regained the power of speech, rounding on him with eyes bulging in unadulterated absolute shock.

"You were that desperate?" Sam asked, taking his girlfriend's hand in a gesture of reassurance. "Kurt, seriously, not cool."

"Yeah, if you wanted to cash in your V-card that badly you could've asked Trouty Mouth over there and he'd have been happy to oblige," Santana said with a shrug and a smirk thrown to Sam.

"For the last time, Santana, I'm not gay!" Sam exclaimed. It seemed as if he wanted to sound angry, but he just sounded tired of the same jibes.

"Yes, and Rachel isn't the most annoying person in the world," Santana retorted to apoplectic exclamations from Rachel. "Oh, shut it, Rachel. So, Kurt, what was his name? And the question we all want to know the answer to: what was the sex like?"

"Okay, everyone, let's get this show on the road!" Mr. Schuester called as he walked in. Kurt breathed a sigh of relief and Santana looked disappointed as Rachel shooed them all into their places.

The rehearsal was a blur. It was over and done with in just under an hour, having been punctuated with relatively little fighting or arguments. "Okay, everyone brought their own cars, our reservation at Breadstix needs to be taken in half an hour," Rachel announced. "That probably leaves enough time to rush home, change and get there in order to eat out. I don't know about everyone else, but Kurt and I have our flight back to New York booked for tomorrow morning, so tonight will be the last time we're all together for goodness knows how long."

"And every moment you speak makes it more likely we're going to miss our reservation," Lauren retorted, climbing into her car. "I'll see you crazies in half an hour. Are we splitting the bill seventeen ways?"

"Well, I think Rachel can pay with all the new riches she's finding in New York," Kurt said, smirking at Rachel's glare before they all dispersed into their separate cars.

Kurt pulled up to his parents' home right behind Finn, running inside to dodge up the stairs and change quickly. A shiver of longing wracked his limbs as he caught sight of the indecently tight jeans and leather jacket he'd been wearing when he'd first caught sight of Blaine on the streets. The leather sleeve swung almost hypnotically where it hung out from under the lid of his laundry basket, dragging him into a trance filled with only soft gasps and pleading moans.

"Kurt, bro, hurry up and I'll give you a lift!" Finn called, pounding his fist against the door. Kurt dragged himself back into reality and haphazardly redressed himself in the skintight red jeans Brittany had emphatically expressed an interest in seeing him wear again, smirking to himself at the orbit the indecency of his clothing choice would put Rachel into. You'd think she would get used to it, living with him in an apartment with rather limited space.

"I still don't understand how your legs don't get strangled by those things," Finn muttered as he thudded in an ungainly manner down the stairs while Kurt followed him decidedly more gracefully.

"It's a talent," Kurt said sweetly, poking his head around the door to find Burt and Carole in the living room, talking quietly. "We'll be back late or possibly stay somewhere else. Sugar's offered up her house for accommodation. If we stay there I'll be back tomorrow morning to pack before we fly back to New York." Burt nodded in acknowledgement of his words and Carole waved cheerfully as Finn, dreading the dinner with the group, bodily dragged Kurt out to his car and started the engine, already sighing and muttering pessimistically as he pulled out of the driveway.

Thank God people had decided to share cars for this outing, because the car park was almost full and if it wasn't for the seventeen of them only needing six cars they would've been in trouble. Climbing out of Quinn's car, Rachel smiled and smoothed back an errant strand of hair as a white-toothed waiter smiled at her and escorted them to their seats.

"Let me be the one to start the interrogation," Santana announced, leaning over the table to smirk at Kurt. "Who was this prostitute you hired?"

"Keep your voice down!" Kurt hissed as a pair of pensioners at the next table looked over at them with worried expressions. "His name's Blaine Anderson. Don't ask about his age or where he lives, I don't know. It was just sex." Just fantastically mind-blowing sex that's probably ruined me for life and I'll never be able to have that with any other man ever. That bastard.

"You know, Kurt, when you say 'just sex' I can tell that you're like in love with this guy or something," Mercedes put in from Santana's left, dragging him from his internal berating of Blaine. "I've said it before and I'll say it again, you fall in love too easily. Do you even know if this guy's gay?"

"But he had sex with Kurt, doesn't that make him completely confirmed gay?" Sam asked, furrowing his brow perplexedly as he stared at the three of them.

"Sam, dear, you have so much to learn about the prostitution industry," Santana said, rolling her eyes emphatically. "A hooker will have sex with anyone as long as they get paid. It's just Kurt who's the crazy person and falls in love with them."

"I'm not in love with him!" Kurt exclaimed indignantly. "I just…it felt…good. To be with him like that. Even though I can't compare it to anything." Santana snorted loudly and Finn nearly choked on his coffee.

"You guys, are we going to eat or just discuss Kurt's sex life? Because if we're not going to eat I have beer in the truck to take the edge off inhibitions and we can go back to Sugar's mansion," Puck said almost cheerfully.

A twenty minute drive in their various vehicles later found them sprawled through the enormous room Sugar called her bedroom, the owner of the fabulous place in question and Rachel fighting over song choices and everyone else - but for Joe, who was staring at them all from the corner with nothing short of disapproval in his gaze - had claimed one of the amazingly comfortable beanbags and claimed a space on the fluffy carpet, bottles of beer strewn haphazardly around the floor, ready to be picked up and swallowed for the purposes of frank and unabashed discussion of sexual experiences.

"Okay, Hummel," Santana said, swallowing half her bottle in one gulp and wiping her mouth in a rather un-ladylike way, "tell us everything." When Finn protested vehemently, she snapped, "Quit your whining, Frankenteen, and grab a pair of earplugs because I wants to hear this."

"Well, I don't know," Kurt began, taking a swig of beer to harden his nerves. "I hired him, I said I'd only pay him when he'd finished if I was satisfied, he got us a taxi, tipped the driver not to look in the backseat, pulled me into his lap and kissed me-"

"Kissed you how?" Quinn asked, picking at a loose thread in the rug as she looked up at Kurt with curious eyes. "Hard, soft, tender, sweet, hot, forceful, with tongue, with teeth, open-mouthed, how?"

"Started soft and got more passionate, open-mouthed and with tongue," Kurt answered to grins from all around. "Anyway, he took me to a hotel, tipped the manager, we got in the lift and kissed again in the same way, got to the room and he did what he was paid for."

"Oh, no way, Hummel, you are not getting away with only telling us the bare minimum!" Santana exclaimed indignantly. "I wants to know the dirty details. All of them."

So Kurt told them. He recounted how sweetly Blaine had kissed him in the back of the taxi, how his hands had glided so smoothly down his back as they kissed again in the lift, how it had felt as Blaine's tongue gently explored his mouth, the water pounding down across entwined bodies, slick skin sliding sinuously together, swollen lips stretched around his cock, the slow burn of Blaine thrusting in and out of him, the warmth of another naked body against him in the bed.

"Wow," Santana said as he finished the story. "I'm slightly turned-on by that. He really got you wound up, didn't he?" She smirked suggestively and took another swig of beer.

"Kurt, why did you do it?" Finn asked faintly, looking incredibly drunk due to repeatedly taking enormous gulps from his various bottles in order to get through Kurt's uninhibited tale.

"I guess I just wanted to feel loved," Kurt whispered sadly.