November was always a heavy month for Kurt, but this year it was much heavier than usual. He did a lot of his work at cafés, avoiding Quinn because of her sixth sense of his mental state. The first few days after Sam's wedding had been a plague. Kurt did his best to avoid Marley and worked himself hard, but in time it got easier. He constantly shifted between being on the edge of tears and internally yelling at himself to get himself together.

After a week of constantly reminding himself of his mantra (I will not let this define me. I will push this aside for my family – and my sanity!) he was slowly starting to return to normal. He allowed himself to curl up with Marley on the couch, and they took the kids out over the weekends. They had Finn and his family over for dinner and laughed together at the postcards Sam and Anna Maria sent them from their honeymoon.

The only times he was reminded of his awful sins were the nights he couldn't fall asleep and was beating himself up in his mind. Or when he was in the shower, jerking off and images of the man crept up on him and made him splatter all over the dusty blue tiles. Those were also the times he felt sick with himself and he couldn't look himself in the mirror, or look Marley in the eyes, so he made up excuses for why he was too busy to watch the news with her or why he easily could fix dinner alone.

Now it had been almost three weeks since the wedding. Kurt hadn't thought about Blaine for over a week and he was out of his bad nerves. He hadn't forgot about it, and he hadn't accepted it – he had simply reached a point where he had pushed it away to not let it interfere with his life, with his family or his job.

There were two weeks left until Thanksgiving and the guys at work were discussing the upcoming Christmas party. Kurt's parents had promised to take the kids so he and Marley could stay out late and have a few drinks. He was definitely looking forward to have a night of relaxing and let loose, not to mention that Christmas holidays would be right around the corner.

"Kurt? Carl wants to see you in his office," Quinn said as she walked by his desk to return to her own across the aisle. She packed up her purse and said goodbye as she left for an interview. With a sigh Kurt got to his feet and headed to the editor's office.

Carl was a nice guy. He had been the one to hire Quinn in the first place and when she came to him, asking for help to Kurt he was the one to open up for him as well. To everyone in the office he was the dad some never had and the work-dad some really needed.

"Hey. You wanted to see me?" Kurt said as he entered the office and sat down on the soft chair in front of Carl's desk.

"Hey Kurt. Yeah, I just wanted to discuss the January issue with you. I just got a bunch of emails in, and apparently we're back to navy themed fashion next year," Carl declared, offering Kurt a fresh bottle of water from the fridge behind his desk.

They continued discussing the fashion of the new year, going through photoshoots and samples Carl had received. Kurt was taking notes, letting the ideas dance around his head.

"Just wait a minute. Do you mind if I open a window? It's pretty hot in here, isn't it?" Carl suddenly asked.

They had been talking for an hour and the man had been shifting nervously in his seat during their entire conversation. He was starting to seem pale and he was fidgeting around with the papers on his desk. Kurt was honestly starting to become a little nervous.

"No, I think it's fine. Are you alright?" Kurt asked concerned, turning to follow his boss with his eyes when the man was by the window.

Suddenly he stopped, and everything felt like a mix of fast-forward and slow motion. Carl burst out a curse and fell to the floor right under the window. Kurt was frozen in his seat, watching it all happen. When he pulled himself out of his paralyze he ran to the end of the room and fell to his knees.

"Help! Please, somebody help!" Kurt called out, hoping people would hear him.

He checked the pulse, realizing he had no idea if he could even feel it. In a rash decision he held his hand under Carl's nose, searching for breath. There was no breath and to his relief one of the guys was there, already calling an ambulance. One of his other colleagues were there, starting CPR and Kurt couldn't do anything but watch and let the horrible flashback of his dad's heart-attack well in over him.

Kurt's head was spinning. His nerves were buzzing and he felt dizzy. Tears were prickling at his eyes but he forced them back, refusing to break into crying at his work-place.

"Kurt, come here, the paramedics are here," a colleague said and grabbed his arm, leading him back to the desk.

A flash of blue ran past them and both guys were on their knees next to Carl. They pulled out instruments and worked so fast Kurt couldn't follow what was going on. He was almost hyperventilating and shaking. This just couldn't be happening. He couldn't have anything happen to Carl.

Luckily it didn't take long before the paramedics declared that they had a pulse and was starting to get him ready to take him down to the ambulance.

"Hey, are you okay?" A terrifyingly familiar voice sounded and when Kurt looked to his side, meeting the face of the guy who was holding a soft hand on his arm. Kurt's eyes widened in terror – he was not ready for this.

"Hey. Kurt, isn't it? You were here when it happened?" Blaine asked, and Kurt's colleague brushed a soothing hand down his back before he walked to the other paramedic who was still on his knees. He had Carl sitting up and was draping a blanket around his shoulders, asking him questions and checking his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Kurt asked, too out of himself to snap.

"I'm just doing my job. You look pretty shaken up," Blaine said and let his hand drop from Kurt's arm.

"I'm fine!" Kurt retorted, this time a little sharper than before. He couldn't look at him, couldn't look at his face. Of all the paramedics in the world Blaine had to be the one to come when his boss had a heart-attack. He hadn't even known that he was a paramedic.

"No, you're not. You're shaking and you're pale," Blaine objected, taking half a step closer to Kurt.

"I don't have time for this. I have to get back to work," Kurt groaned and got to his feet, but Blaine stopped him with a hand on his wrist, pulling him back.

Kurt panicky looked around himself, but there weren't anyone in the office but him, Blaine and the other paramedic still working on Carl.

"You can't go back to work now. You're in shock."

"No, I'm no -"

"I just have to get back to the hospital with your boss, and then I'm done for today. Let me take you out for a drink," Blaine offered, his voice incredibly soft and calm when he wasn't drunk –or getting fucked.

"Still not gay," Kurt hissed under his breath.

"I don't care about that. You should get a hold of yourself. You're shaking and you look like you're about to throw up," Blaine declared and rolled his eyes.

"Doesn't matter. I'm not gonna be seen with you in public. So get out of my work-place," Kurt snarled and tried to shake him off.

"Listen... we'll go to a hotel, we'll order some drinks to the room - all on me. No one will see you with me, and you will calm down. I promise this is not to get into your pants or anything. I am really just doing my job. You're really upset about this, beyond how people usually react when their boss has a heart-attack, and I can't just let you deal with this yourself," Blaine pushed, and to Kurt's surprise he seemed sincere. This definitely wasn't the guy he had fooled around with at parties.

"I don't really know..." Kurt stated insecurely. He shifted his weight on his feet, looking out the door where it seemed like everyone had stopped their work and were gossiping instead.

"I promise I won't do anything. It's just talking. Bros helping out bros. Just doing my job," Blaine sighed and looked back to his colleague who was trying to get Carl on his feet.

This was weird. Why would Blaine take him to a hotel room and feed him drinks if it wasn't to get into his pants? But then again, he seemed so much different than he had at the parties. He was calm and understanding, sweet and patient.

"Fine. One drink. And you keep your hands to yourself," Kurt finally agreed, mentally kicking himself for what he was doing. But it was true; he was really shaken about this.

"Deal. Meet me here in 30 minutes. Ask for B. Anderson," Blaine said, the corners of his mouth twitching lightly as he turned around to grasp a post-it from the desk and scribbled down an address on the green piece of paper. He folded it up and handed it to Kurt before he squeezed his arm gently and hurried to help his colleague get Carl out of the door.

There Kurt was; left alone with the address of a hotel in his hand and nothing but his haunting memories of his dad's heart-attack crippling down his spine.

xXx

It was the same hotel they had went to the first time they hooked up. The time after Sam's bachelor-party. Kurt had been hazy and blurry that night, both when they arrived and when he left, but he remembered the rug and the wallpaper in the reception. He walked into the lobby and back out again three times before he took a deep breath and actually walked up to the receptionist, asking for B. Anderson as told.

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this," Kurt whispered to himself as he stepped into the elevator and pressed the button he needed.

When he finally arrived at the room he was directed to, he stood staring at the door for ten minutes, fumbling his fingers around his pockets and chewing on his lower lip before he got himself together and knocked on the green wood.

"Hey. You came. I was starting to worry that you wouldn't," Blaine said when he opened the door.

He wasn't in his uniform anymore. He was wearing a mint green shirt with a blue sweater vest over and a pair of dark green chinos. It was strange to see him not wearing a suit – or dressed in a ridiculous costume. Not that it had seemed any more normal to see him in his paramedic uniform, but that was professional. This was so chill and relaxed.

"Yeah. I – I almost didn't," Kurt admitted nervously and followed as Blaine led the way into the room.

It was a small room with a bed, a dresser, an armchair by the window and a nightstand on each side of the bed. On the dresser two glasses and a line of whiskey and wine was lined up.

"I didn't know what you wanted, so I just brought some different. We can order something else if you don't like it," Blaine said and gestured for Kurt to sit on the bed.

Kurt turned around himself, looking around the room and then sat down. He crossed his legs and returned to chewing on his lower lip as Blaine went for the drinks.

"No, that's okay. I'll just... have whatever you have there," he stammered.

Blaine poured two glasses of whiskey and came to sit on the bed next to Kurt. He looked at him and clinked his glass against Kurt's before taking a mouthful. Kurt looked a bit at the amber liquid in his glass before he downed it all.

"I uhm – do you take all your – patients – to hotel rooms to get them drunk?" Kurt asked, noticing his voice was a bit light, showing off his nerves way too much.

"You're not my patient. And no... I don't. I am not trying to get you drunk. I just figured you could use a drink. You seemed like you were going to pass out back there," Blaine said.

"I guess. I was pretty startled. It's just... everyone just has a really good connection with Carl. He's sort of our extra dad," Kurt shrugged, doing his best to seem relaxed and cool about it. He could take one more drink and then he could go home.

"Yeah, everyone were shocked there. But you seemed... more. Like something was triggered for you. Are you sure you're okay?" Blaine asked, leaning a little forward with his eyes locked on Kurt's face.

Kurt looked to the floor. The rug in the room wasn't the same as the one in the lobby. This one was soft and gray, thick and reminded him of the fur on a cuddly animal.

"I – yeah. It's just – when I was a teenager my dad had a heart-attack. It just brought back some bad memories. It's no big deal," he said, shrugging again. He wasn't going to lay down his entire life story for this stranger just because he was handing him a drink.

"I see. That's tough," Blaine said and looked into his glass. He emptied it and got up. He took both bottles with him back to the bed. He poured more whiskey into both of their glasses and let the bottles lie on the mattress behind them.

They sat in silence for a while, both staring around the room or into their glass. They both snuck glances at each other, but whenever they were caught by the other they hurried to look away.

"So – how do you know Sam?" Blaine asked, obviously just trying to make conversation.

"We went to high school together. He went to some snobby all boys school, but then he transferred to McKinley his sophomore year. How about you?" Kurt said.

"We went to grade school together – and then later we both went to some snobby all boys high school," Blaine grinned, not a trace of being offended in his voice.

"Oh... I – sorry," Kurt said sheepishly.

"That's alright. We did seem pretty snobby to outsiders," Blaine laughed, and Kurt couldn't help noticing that his cheeks went for his eyes whenever he smiled.

"Is your dad alright?" Blaine suddenly asked.

That was pretty out of nowhere.

"Yeah. He's fine. He got over it. He was in a coma for a few days, and after that he went through some intense observation and recovery. But he got alright after," Kurt said, remembering the long hours of sitting in the hospital chair holding his dad's hand while he was unconscious, the struggle to get him to eat healthier and the fear that was constantly hanging over his head for so long.

"That's good. I'm glad," Blaine smiled.

"Your boss is gonna be okay, too. He just needs to relax. When we brought him back to the hospital it sounded like he is just really stressed out. Like he needs some time time off. Don't worry about it," Blaine assured him and reached over to squeeze Kurt's wrist tenderly, but pulled his hand back again.

"Thank you. It was just – really sudden. I just got scared, that's all," Kurt replied, and accepted an understanding smile from Blaine.

They returned to silence. Kurt hated silence. But for some reason it wasn't so bad when he was with Blaine. It felt nice to sit with someone without having to talk or think. It was calming and Kurt found that Blaine's assurance that Carl would be alright actually helped him relax. He wasn't worried anymore.

"Can I ask you something?" Blaine suddenly said. Both of their glasses were empty, now sitting on the floor in front of their feet.

At first Kurt was about to say no. He couldn't know what Blaine would want to know from him. He was a stranger after all, and Kurt was still unsure of why he had even come there. Still, he found himself nodding after a minute of looking at Blaine staring intently at him.

"How long have you known?"

"Known what?" Kurt asked, oblivious to what it was Blaine was asking.

"That you're gay."

"Oh no. No. We're not doing that again. I'm not gay," Kurt said firmly. He couldn't believe it. He was actually starting to like the guy, and they were talking without having their tongues tickling each other's tonsils, yet the dude was back to poking into this subject again. The one subject in the world that Kurt wanted to avoid more than anything.

"I guess you don't know it yet, then -" Blaine just said. This time he wasn't pressuring him. He was going to leave it alone. And here Kurt had ran around thinking he was an insensitive dick who was just trying to ruin his life.

Blaine fell back on the bed, staring up to the ceiling. He pushed the bottles towards the pillows, making sure they wouldn't hit his head if he moved. After a little while Kurt fell down to lie next to him.

The ceiling was perfectly white, only interrupted by the lamp hanging in the middle of the room. He shuffled to lie on his side, doing his best to not look at Blaine who was still lying on his back. The door to the bathroom was closed and had a boring brown color. Like the wood had been lying in water for too long.

"I never kissed a guy before. Before... you know. You," Kurt suddenly whispered.

His voice was nearly inaudible. He had no idea why he said that. It was true. But why would he even say something like that?

Blaine turned to lie on his side as well. He rested his head on his elbow, his free arm resting against his chest. His hands looked like he really took care of them. They looked soft and his nails looked like he had them regularly manicured. It wasn't the hands of a man who worked with his hands a lot.

"That's okay. I didn't kiss a guy until I was 14," Blaine said.

"How did you know? That you're... gay," Kurt asked. The word was burning on his tongue. He was so used to only saying it when he was stating that he definitely wasn't.

"I just knew. I always knew. When I watched a movie I would rather kiss the guy than I would kiss the girl. Even when I was little and watched cartoons – I wanted to be with the prince, not the princess. It was the same in school. Women are beautiful, but guys are just... I can't really explain it. It just feels right to be with a guy. That bubbly feeling other guys get when they kiss their girlfriends, that's how I feel when I kiss a guy – if it's a guy I like, of course," Blaine told openly.

This really was a guy who knew who he was and wasn't ashamed to tell about it.

What curled up to a ball in Kurt's throat was that he knew that feeling well. The only problem was that it wasn't how he felt when he kissed Marley.

"Do you have a – boyfriend?"

"No. I had. But we broke up around a year ago," Blaine said.

"I'm sorry. Were you together for a long time?" Kurt asked, feeling like he was intruding into the stranger's personal life, but somehow he couldn't stop himself. He was curious.

"It's okay. I'm over him. I've been for a while now. We were together for three years. We just grew apart," Blaine shrugged, and luckily he didn't seem upset about it. Apparently he really was over that guy.

Kurt thought about that for a while. That guys dated guys and they didn't feel like they had to hide or be embarrassed about themselves. It didn't seem like Blaine had any other feelings about himself and his relationships than straight people had. He actually seemed more like he didn't even think about the fact that he was gay.

"Can I – can I kiss you? I never kissed a guy sober before," Kurt heard himself say and clasped his hand in front of his mouth.

Where did that come from? He was not supposed to ask stuff like that!

His cheeks went ablaze and he squeezed his lips shut. Maybe he was lucky, and Blaine hadn't heard. Which was a stupid thought, because he was lying right next to him. Of course he had heard.

Before Kurt knew it Blaine was lying right in front of him. He let his hand over to remove Kurt's from his mouth (His hand is so soft!) with his eyes staring directly into Kurt's. Within a heartbeat Blaine had leaned closer to press his mouth onto Kurt's.

It wasn't anything like the times they had been drunk and horny, when they had rutted against each other and lust was the only thing that mattered. This was gentle and tender. There was that bubbly feeling Marley never had been able to give him.

Kurt found himself moving closer. He sucked Blaine's mouth closer to his own and allowed himself to really feel the full lips working over his own. His stomach twirled and his brain fogged over. Blaine moved closer, letting his hand run to Kurt's jaw with his thumb running over his cheek. His fingers were in one time strong and rough, but somehow still soft and gentle.

But no. This couldn't happen. Not again. He had to stop before it got out of hand. This time he wasn't even tipsy, he had no excuse. He had just let this man kiss him.

"No. No, I can't do this. It's not me. It's just been – bi-curious events. I'm not gay. I have... I have two kids, and a wife, and... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here," Kurt blabbered desperately out and fumbled to get off the bed.

He rushed his coat on and Blaine was right behind him, looking concerned.

"It's okay. It's fine. I don't... I don't expect anything from you. If you're just bi-curious then just let it out of your system so you can return to your life with your wife. But – don't lock your true self away forever," Blaine said, looking at Kurt with big, wary eyes.

"It's not – I have to go. Thank you for... everything, I guess. But I really don't think we should see each other again. Can we just – please not mention it to anyone?" Kurt said, not even snapping, but pleading for Blaine to not tell anyone that they had met each other there. It would only complicate everything way too much.

"Of course. Of course. But – here. Take this," Blaine said and rushed to the dresser to scribble something down on the notepad with the hotel logo on the top. He handed it to Kurt with a vague smile.

"It's my number. I promise I won't do anything. I just – you have a lot to deal with, and I just thought that if you want someone to talk to, so you won't be alone with it all, you can just call me. Don't worry about time or anything. My work hours are crazy anyway," Blaine said and brushed his thumb over Kurt's before he pulled his hand away.

"Thank you, but... I don't think that's a good idea. I just wanna put this behind me. I feel so sick with myself and I can't... I can't do anymore to Marley. Thank you but just... I hope you'll do fine."

"Just... please promise me you won't throw it out. Even if you don't call me, it might be good for you to have it. I just want you to be okay, Kurt. And right now you aren't," Blaine sighed.

"Goodbye, Blaine," Kurt said with a vague smile and turned around.

As he walked down the hall he shoved the piece of paper into his pocket and promised himself to throw it out the minute he got near a trashcan. This was a piece of his life he didn't want any memories of at all. It needed to disappear, be gone for good. He had to go back to keeping his secret locked away, or some day it would hurt everyone he loved. It was the only right thing for him to do.

xXx

The next few weeks Kurt did his best to put his family first. He took Marley out for romantic dinners and stayed home to work there so he could spend time with Milo instead of taking him to kindergarten. He went to Lily's dance lessons with her, and helped her with all her homework.

Evenings were spent on the couch wrapped up around the kids until they had to go to bed, and then he curled his arms around Marley, letting her pepper sweet kisses over his neck.

It was nice, but he felt empty. Like something was missing. When he woke up in the morning he had a tough time getting out of bed, looking for another reason than he had an article to finish or that the kids needed to be taken to school and kindergarten.

He visited Carl in the hospital, and when he was out he visited him at home, bringing him gifts and cards with well-wishes from the office. He went to lunch with Quinn, well knowing that she could feel that he wasn't doing great, but she never mentioned anything.

Thanksgiving was right around the corner and Kurt kept telling himself that he just needed to get there alive. After that everything would be okay.

They switched between having Thanksgiving with Marley's family and with Kurt's family. This year they would all be going to Kurt's family, and the morning after Marley would be taking the kids to visit her family in Ohio over the weekend. Usually Kurt would join them, but this year he had to stay home to take care of some work because he had taken over a load of Carl's chores after he had to turn in sick for unknown time.

That meant Kurt would be allowed a weekend to himself where he could get himself back on track and allow himself to spend all of December preparing for Christmas with his family.

Still, when he was lying in bed at night and couldn't sleep he was often interrupted by the thought of a rough, but gentle hand on his cheek. Full lips against his – and a bubbling feeling spreading inside of him.