Kurt didn't eat dinner that night. His stomach roiling, he spent most of the mealtime with his head buried between his arms at the table, while Mercedes and Rachel patted his back and told him everything would be okay.

“I don't even know why I wanted to go on that backcountry trip so badly,” Kurt moaned, lifting his head a few inches off his arms so they could hear him. “I've never been even remotely outdoorsy.”

“It's just like what happened with the movies,” Rachel said.

Tina added, “Figgins has some kind of sick gift for dangling something in front of us until we are practically salivating for it, then yanking it away at the last minute.”

“It's so unfair,” Mercedes agreed.

“And Blaine and I didn't even do anything wrong,” Kurt grumbled, ignoring the knowing look Tina gave Mercedes.

“Well, I suppose we could have told someone where we were going,” Blaine said. “Figgins did have a point about that.”

“Don't take his side,” Kurt groaned. “At least you have two weeks to demonstrate good behavior before your crew goes on it's backcountry hike. You don't have to spend all night pleading your case in writing about why they should let you go. I have to put together this whole essay about my responsibility,” he complained.

“I'm sorry?” Blaine said uncertainly.

Kurt shook his head. “No, don't be. I'm glad you have a chance at your backcountry hike. I'm just upset because Schuester and Martinez keep talking it up.” He sighed, looking into the eyes of first one friend and then another. “It was the only thing that was keeping me going in this place, besides getting to spend our few free minutes a day with you guys. I just don't know how I'm supposed to convince Figgins to let me go.”

“Aren't you glad he's giving you an option, though?” Tina asked. “Since your crew is supposed to leave in a few days. It doesn't give you much time to show good behavior. He could have just said you can't go at all…” Tina's words trailed off at Kurt's glare.

“Yes, it's peachy,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes. “Well, I guess I better get started.”  Kurt walked toward the door. He heard Rachel and Blaine discussing whether or not singing a song would get Kurt back into Figgins' good graces. Kurt just shook his head and hurried toward his cabin to grab his notebook and a pen.

The next morning, yawning profusely, Kurt handed Figgins twenty single-spaced, hand-written pages extolling his innocence, responsibility, and leadership. He also waxed passionately about his newfound love of nature and his longing to learn backcountry survival skills.

After an agonizingly slow workday, punctuated by taunts from Dave and Azimio, who made kissing sounds and lewd gestures every time they passed him, Kurt was called in to speak with Figgins.

“I am very disappointed in you, Mr. Hummel,” Figgins said in clipped tones. “I was hoping that you would set a good example for all these sex-crazed teens. And then you turned out to be one of them.”

“But that's not true,” Kurt said. “All I did was take a walk in the woods with a friend.”

“I am not up on all the latest teen lingo,” Figgins said. “But even I know that ‘take a walk in the woods' is a slang for the sexy times.”

Kurt closed his eyes and took a breath. “That's just something the kids here are saying because they don't believe me and Blaine. But I swear to you, we just talked. There wasn't any kind of sexy anything.” Kurt didn't want to apologize, but he knew that sometimes acting contrite could go a long way with an adult in authority. So he ignored his rage at the injustice of the situation and continued. “I understand now that we should have let someone know where we were going. I know that you are concerned about our safety and that letting someone know we were going for a walk would have been the responsible thing to do. I promise I will never go off base camp without permission again. But to be fair, Blaine and I didn't know you were going to call a meeting. We were being responsible because we knew how long our free period was and we were careful to keep track of the time and to come back well before that free period ended. I really hope you've considered what I wrote to you.”

“Yes, you were very eloquent. And long-winded.” Figgins leaned back in his chair. “I am going to let you go on the backcountry hike. But I want you to know that the crew leaders and I are all watching you very closely. If there are any more sexual infractions, you will be kicked out.”

Kurt bit his tongue to keep himself from protesting that there never were any sexual infractions in the first place. Instead he nodded and smiled and said, “Thank you so much! You won't regret it.” He nearly skipped out of the office. He immediately ran toward Blaine's cabin to let him know the good news.

Typically, after a full day of hot and humid weather and grueling and boring work, Kurt could barely muster the energy for a card game or a quick song with his friends before collapsing into bed. But that night, Kurt was full of energy, riding an elated high from Figgins granting him permission to go on the backcountry hike. He felt like he would burst unless he could release that energy, so he was grateful that Rachel somehow convinced crew leader Schuester to leave his keys in his car with the radio cranked up.

All thirty-two crew members, starved for electronic entertainment of any kind, piled onto the pavement next to the car to listen to the sweet strains of pop music. Puck reached into the car and spun the radio dials until he found a song with a strong thumping beat. He cranked the volume to the maximum, and Kurt felt a small thrill of excitement when he felt the vibrations of the bass line run up his legs and reverberate through his chest.

“Did all that hair gel finally rot your brain?” Kurt heard crew leader Sylvester bark at Schuester above the noise emanating from the car speakers. “You can't trust these kids. They'll probably steal your car.”

Schuester chuckled and said, “No, they're harmless. They just need a little creative outlet. They're just going to dance. Come on, Sue,” he slung an arm over her shoulders. “Let's join Holly and David in the crew leaders common room. I'll come back before lights out to quiet them down.”

Sue Sylvester shrugged violently to release her shoulders from Schuester's arm, but turned and followed him, only glancing back for a moment and meeting Kurt's eyes with a scowl. Kurt blinked and shook his head, refusing to let the ornery college student ruin his good mood.

Brittany and Mike started dancing, and soon the entire parking lot was a writhing mass of young bodies, thrashing to the beat as if their lives depended upon staying in perpetual motion. Kurt closed his eyes and let himself feel the thump of the bass as he gyrated his hips and flung his head from side to side. He let out a whoop, holding his arms above his head and twitching his hips to the beat.  

When two hands settled on his hips and pulled him backwards into a warm body, Kurt only cracked his eyes open for a brief moment to glance around and see that there were no crew leaders or camp directors in sight before closing his eyes again with a sigh and sinking back against the firm chest. Kurt grinned triumphantly. He had been disappointed when Blaine implied that he was pining after a boy from school, but the hot hands on his hips and the firm thighs bumping against his ass gave him renewed hope that perhaps he'd caught Blaine's interest after all.

Kurt pressed his back firmly against the other boy's chest and tilted his head back until he felt Blaine's chin grazing the top of his head. He relaxed his hips and let the other boy's hands guide him to the rhythm of the song. With a small smile, Kurt opened his eyes, glancing around the throng of dancing bodies. Suddenly he stiffened, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open. He had spotted Blaine on the other side of the car, dancing with Sam and Tina.

Kurt froze, resisting the hands still gently pushing at his hips. The boy behind him leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Don't stop. You're such a great dancer.”

Kurt spun around and tried to take a step back, but the other boy's hands held firm on his hips. They were so close together, Kurt had to tilt his head back to look up into the face of the other boy. He quickly scanned the narrow face framed by upswept chestnut hair before focusing on his piercing green eyes. “You're Sebastian,” Kurt said.

Sebastian's eyes twinkled with a dangerous gleam and he grinned. “And you're Kurt. I've been meaning to introduce myself.” Kurt felt Sebastian's warm breath on his face. The slight height difference stirred something primal within Kurt and his stomach flipped.

“Well, now we've met,” Kurt said breathily.

“We certainly have,” Sebastian said, moving his hands to Kurt's lower back in a tight grip and dragging him closer. “Let's dance,” he said, nudging his leg between Kurt's and pushing their bodies together in a slow grind.

A thrill ran down Kurt's spine and he had to force his involuntary grin into a disapproving frown. “We'll get in trouble.”

Sebastian glanced around the crowd and said, “I don't see Figgins around. Or any of the crew leaders for that matter.” His hand slipped down to just above the swell of Kurt's ass. Kurt closed his eyes for a moment and let Sebastian move his hips in a circle, their bodies pressed close together. Kurt had never been this close to another boy and he was heady with scent of Sebastian's soap mixed with a hint of his sweat.

Kurt's senses were on high alert and he felt nearly overloaded by the joint press of Sebastian's palms against his lower back and his thighs against his own. The music pounded in his ears and his whole body tingled at the searing gaze Sebastian fixed him with. He felt incredibly powerful, soaring alongside the stars with the thrill of feeling wanted, in that way, for the first time.

Something nagged at the back of Kurt's mind and he tried to push it aside in favor of preserving this incredible feeling for as long as possible, but he couldn't keep his thoughts at bay. And while he was enjoying this silent, moving flirtation set to music, he also didn't want to jeopardize his reprieve from punishment that he had so recently labored for and won.

“I think we should stop dancing,” Kurt said, extracting himself from Sebastian's hold reluctantly. “My crew leaves for the backcountry hike the day after tomorrow and I almost didn't get to go. I really can't get in trouble again and I'm sure Figgins wouldn't want to see us dancing like this.” Kurt gestured toward their dancing peers. “I don't see anyone else dancing together like that. Well, except Brittany and Santana, but it's easier for girls to get away with it. I'm sure Figgins would accept that they were just friends…”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow and let his eyes rake over Kurt's body in hungry appraisal. When his eyes slowly trailed back up and locked onto Kurt's own, Sebastian grinned his approval. Kurt felt himself blush and was grateful for the cover of the dim light. “We don't have to dance,” Sebastian said slowly. “What would you rather do instead?”

“Talk, I guess,” Kurt said. He glanced toward Blaine, who had taken Rachel's hand and was spinning her in the middle of a circle of their friends. He didn't seem to notice that Kurt wasn't with the group. Kurt followed Sebastian to a nearby park bench and sat down in the shadows, watching the group of dancers.

“I'm glad you want to talk,” Sebastian said sincerely. “I've wanted to meet you and talk with you ever since you instigated the sit in. That was just incredible, the way you got everyone to follow your lead. And you totally schooled Figgins. It was awesome that we got to go to the movies the next day. We really needed that.”

“Thanks,” Kurt said, ducking his head shyly. “I'm glad I could help.” After a slightly awkward pause Kurt asked, “Are you on Sylvester's crew?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said. “She's pretty crazy. So is Holly Holiday, but she's fun crazy. Sue Sylvester is more insane and cruel.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. I kind of got that sense from the few interactions I've had with her,” Kurt said sympathetically. “So you're with my roommate Glen, then.”

“Yes, I know Glen,” Sebastian said.

“He doesn't talk to me much,” Kurt said softly. “So, I don't really know what you're working on.”

“We mostly level out gravel,” Sebastian said absently, watching the dancers. After a moment he turned back to Kurt, fixing his face with an intent gaze. “But that's not particularly interesting. Come on, tell me about what you'd rather be doing than being stuck here.”

“I'd rather be in New York,” Kurt answered immediately. “Doing pretty much anything, especially if it's on Broadway. I actually am here doing this to increase my chances of getting into my dream school in New York. The dean there is a big environmentalist and has supported this organization in the past. So I thought having this on my resume would help.”

“That's a good idea,” Sebastian said. He grabbed Kurt's hand and pulled it into his lap, tracing patterns on Kurt's wrist with his thumb. “I thought you had an incredible brain to go along with your incredible body.”

Kurt smiled. He knew Sebastian was laying on the complements extremely thick, but he didn't want to question his admirer's motives. He was content to enjoy having an admirer at all, which was quite a novelty for Kurt, who had only met two other out, gay boys his own age in his life – first Blaine and now Sebastian.

“What made you interested in New York, other than Broadway?” Sebastian asked.

Kurt thought about it for a moment. He had never been to New York, but he had been obsessed with the theater for years and his ambitions to be a star on the stage logically led him to an interest in the city that was home to Broadway. But he had read a lot about the city and certainly had studied it through movies and popular culture. “Well, I'd like to end up starring in a show on Broadway someday,” Kurt said. “But also, I think that New York will be a far more accepting and diverse place to live than the small town in Ohio where I'm from.”

“You're right,” Sebastian said. “In fact, I'd be happy to tell you whatever you want to know about New York. I live in Scarsdale, which is just outside Manhattan. My friends and I go into the city all the time.”

“Really?” Kurt asked, instantly fascinated. “Have you been to any shows?”

“It's not really my scene, but I've been to a few,” Sebastian said. “I saw Wicked with my parents.”

“Oh my God,” Kurt exclaimed. “Tell me all about it.”

Kurt and Sebastian talked animatedly until Will Schuester shut down the party by pulling his keys out of the car, the music vanishing into a momentary vacuum filled quickly by excited voices and a surge of noisy crickets. Kurt was so excited to hear Sebastian's stories about Broadway shows, Chinatown restaurants, and secretive trips with his friends to forbidden nightclubs that he had nearly forgotten that Sebastian was still playing with his hand and stroking his wrist. When Will called five minutes until lights out, Sebastian grasped Kurt's hand in both of his own and squeezed it. “Goodnight,” he said, before heading up the path toward the cabins, turning after a few paces to flash a wink and a smile at Kurt over his shoulder. Kurt smiled back and waved, rooted to the spot as he watched Sebastian walk away.

“Kurt, there you are,” called Blaine from behind him. Kurt turned around and smiled at his friend. “Were you dancing? I thought I would see you. There aren't that many of us.”

“Sorry,” Kurt said. “I didn't do much dancing. I met your friend Sebastian. Did you know that he's from New York?” Kurt bounced on his toes excitedly as he and Blaine walked toward the cabins side-by-side, missing Blaine's look of disappointment entirely as he gave him an abbreviated version of Sebastian's Big Apple adventures. Kurt gushed out the highlights in one breath, stopping only when they came to the fork in the path where they had to part ways and proceed to their separate cabins.

“Have a good night, Kurt. Sleep well,” Blaine said.

“I'm so excited about the backcountry trip. It's going to be hard to sleep,” Kurt replied. We have one more night here, but I have to pack in the morning and bring my bag to the lot where we get our tools. I'm not really sure why. Well, I better go. Goodnight,” Kurt said with a hurried wave, bounding toward his cabin.

“I'll miss you,” Blaine said under his breath, turning slowly and trudging the path toward the group bathroom. But Kurt was already halfway to his cabin and didn't hear him.

Kurt schooled his face into a neutral expression before opening his cabin door. After that one conversation with Kurt and Mercedes, Glen had gone back to scowling silently at Kurt or barking nasty orders at him about staying on his side of the room. Kurt avoided him as much as possible and didn't want to provoke his ire by smiling, or breathing, or whatever it might be that made his roommate so angry with him.

He pointedly avoided eye contact, but he felt Glen's eyes follow him and he rummaged through his bag for his sleepwear. He nearly jumped at Glen's gruff voice. “Yo! Mercedes available?”

Kurt took a few moments to regulate his breathing before he turned slowly toward Glen, who was glaring at him in his most intimidating fashion from his sprawling perch on his cot across the room. “Excuse me?” he asked slowly.

“I saw you dance with that Sebastian dude, and you didn't talk to that fine woman all night,” Glen said, each word clipped and staccato, with not even a blink to break the power of his glare. “So she's no longer off limits. To me.” He slapped a hand to his chest and the sound echoed loudly in the small cabin.

Kurt closed his eyes for a moment. He could not wait to take the backcountry trip just to get away from his caveman roommate for a week. And luckily, Mercedes would be on the backcountry trip, too. But in the meantime, he wanted to offer his friend some level of protection from his roommate's unwanted advances. He opened his eyes again, fixing them on Glen in his best imitation of his roommate's piercing glare. “Sebastian is just a friend. Mercedes and I are so on.” They stared at each other in silence for long moments, the only sound their huffed out, angry breaths. Kurt added in a vehement, near-growl, “I better not hear about you harassing my girlfriend. If you so much as breath in her direction – ”

Glen held his hands up in a gesture of surrender and shrugged. “All right, man. You can't blame a guy for asking.”

Kurt didn't respond. When he turned back to grab his toiletries bag, he used his back to shield his trembling hands from Glen's view. He wished there was a way to list the improvement to his acting skills on his resume under this job. He comforted himself with the thought that he could harness these new skills in his next community theater audition and perhaps land a part before he had to submit the application to NYADA next year.

The next day, Kurt, Mercedes, and the other members of their crew lined up their backpacks for inspection by crew leaders Martinez and Schuester. This was a trial run of packing for the backcountry trip leaving the following day. The packs issued by the camp were large with metal frames and lots of supportive straps. Still, Kurt found it challenging to fit all of his clothes and toiletries into the relatively small space.

“Everyone line up. Place your packs on the ground,” Martinez instructed.

“I can't believe we have to hike up a mountain with these things on our backs,” Mercedes whispered as she dropped her pack on the ground next to Kurt's with a thud. “They're heavy even when they're empty.”

Kurt nodded in agreement. “By the way, Glen was asking about you again.”

“Oh hell to the no,” Mercedes exclaimed in hushed tones. “What did you tell him?”

“To stay away from my girlfriend,” Kurt said, holding a straight face as long as he could before the two of them dissolved into choked back giggles.

“Thanks,” Mercedes said gratefully, as they turned their attention to the crew leaders, who had been talking to the group throughout their entire whispered conversation.

“ – a valuable educational exercise for everyone,” Schuester was saying. “Kurt, let's start with you,”

“What?” Kurt asked, whipping his head toward the crew leader and staring at him with wide eyes.

“Were you not listening just now?” Schuester sighed in exasperation. “I need you to empty your pack. We're going to go through everything you put in there to assess its suitability for backcountry hiking.”

“Oh,” Kurt said softly. He bent down to unzip his pack.

“Everybody empty your packs,” Martinez said sharply. “Lay our all of your items in neat rows on the ground so we can see everything.”

“We're going to go through this with everyone individually,” Schuester said, standing if front of Kurt's rows of belongings. “But we'll discuss Kurt's things as a group first. Then we'll give everyone a chance to separate what you think are your necessary and unnecessary items before Martinez and I make the final cut.”

Schuester crouched down and picked up each of Kurt's items one by one, asking him why he thought he needed this particular shirt or pair of pants. He chastised Kurt for almost everything he had packed. Schuester loudly counted out the underwear and socks needed for the week-long trip, placing the spares Kurt had added aside. He also culled down Kurt's wardrobe, honing it from a full range of pants, shorts, shirts, and accessories to two pairs of long pants and a few shirts.

“What's in there?” Schuester asked, pointing a long, accusing finger at Kurt's forest green toiletries bag.

“That's for my toothpaste and soap and stuff,” Kurt mumbled.

“Well open it up,” Schuester demanded.

Kurt unzipped the rather large bag and pulled out a bottle of moisturizer. Schuester and the rest of the crew watched in silence, the frown on the crew leader's face growing deeper as Kurt pulled out smaller moisturizers, acne cream, and sunscreen and placed them on the ground.

“I'm going to stop you there,” Schuester said. He looked away and cleared his throat before focusing on Kurt again. “I know that young men have, um, needs. But you do realize that the whole group is going to share a tent, right? You're not going to have the – uh – privacy you need for – ” he gestured vaguely at the assorted moisturizers.

Kurt stared at the crew leader, puzzled, as snickers of laughter erupted from the rest of the group. “What do you – ”

Kurt looked up and saw Dave punch Azimio in the arm to get his attention. Dave crudely mimed jerking off and the two dissolved into laughter.

“Oh, God. No,” Kurt said in horror, feeling his cheeks burn brightly. “I have a strict skin care regimen.” Now even Mike, Brittany, and Mercedes were giggling. Mercedes clapped a hand over her mouth and shrugged apologetically. “For my face,” Kurt huffed angrily.

“All right, everyone,” Schuester said. “Settle down.” He gestured toward Kurt's toiletries bag. “You can't bring the moisturizers. They're too heavy and they'll attract bears. You can go without them for a week. What else is in there?”

When Kurt pulled out a can of hairspray, Schuester simply held out his hand, palm up until Kurt handed it over. Schuester dangled the between two fingers, holding it away from his body as if it were the rotting carcass of some long-dead rodent. “Kurt, you don't have room for this,” he admonished. Dave and Azimio snickered and Kurt glared at them, itching to flip them the bird but wary of the watchful eyes of Martinez and Schuester. Schuester flung the hairspray unceremoniously on top of the pile of rejected clothing, followed by all of the moisturizers.

“But my hair – ” Kurt started to protest.

“We all have to make sacrifices,” Schuester said dispassionately.

“Use this,” Martinez said gruffly, tossing a red bandana to Kurt. “Tie that around your head to keep your bangs out of your face and you won't need hairspray. You can't bring that stuff. Hairspray and moisturizers can attract bears. They'll think it's food and we can only put so much of our stuff up in sacks hanging from trees. And you'll thank me when the bugs leave you alone. Besides, everyone needs to be able to fit parts of our tents and cookware in their packs, too.” He thrust a frying pan, tent poles, pasta, cook stove fuel, and a few cans of soup into Kurt's arms. “Add this and repack your bag.” He looked up at the entire assembled crew. “And everyone be sure to fill both of your water bottles before we leave tomorrow morning.”

“All right, everyone,” Schuester added. “Go through your stuff and try figure out what items you can leave behind. I can guarantee that each and every one of you packed at least a few things you don't really need. We'll give you five minutes and then we'll come around to look at how you did.” As he walked away, he tossed out over his shoulder, almost as an afterthought, “Thanks for being our example, Kurt.”

“Wow,” Mercedes said softly. “That was brutal. I'm sorry, Kurt.”

“It's okay,” he said. He glanced over at her belongings, which she had already started to separate into two piles. “I can hide that for you,” he said kindly, pointing toward the large pack of sanitary pads she had half hidden under a sweatshirt. “I doubt they'll be looking at my stuff again this morning. I can give it back to you later today.”

“Thanks,” Mercedes said with a smile. “I really don't want those paraded around for everyone to snicker at.”

“No problem,” Kurt said, wrapping a t-shirt around the pads and shoving them into the bottom of his bag.

After all the bags were inspected and the group's gear divided among them, the crew members returned their full packs and the extra items that didn't make the cut to their cabins, then lined back up to grab their tools and head out to the trail to begin work for the day.

The next day, Kurt lined up with his crew by the sheds as usual, but this time they all had their full packs resting on the ground in front of them. He and Mercedes chatted quietly as they watched the other two crews get their tools for the workday. They waved to Blaine, Rachel, and Tina as they watched their friends trudge off down the path toward the trails they were building near base camp. Sebastian's crew filed past next. Sebastian winked at Kurt and he smiled in return. He glanced nervously at Mercedes, but she was digging through her pack to find her water bottle and had missed the exchange.

Once the other crews had cleared out, Martinez and Schuester lined them up for a final combined safety lecture and pep talk before they hiked to the mountain trail head. Once everyone had the heavy packs securely strapped on their backs, the crew leaders handed each crew member a pair of tools, one for each hand. “Don't forget,” Martinez said as he pushed a shovel into Kurt's right hand and a pair of loppers in the other, “we need to pack everything in with us, including the tools we need for our work.”

The hike lasted hours. The climb was steep and they only took a few breaks for water or to quickly chew a granola bar. Kurt's legs burned beneath him from a combination of the heavy pack on his shoulders and the dramatic incline. Kurt quickly learned that Martinez and Schuester had very different hiking styles. Martinez seemed focused on hiking as an athletic pursuit and he tackled the mountain with long, quick strides. Schuester wandered up the trail more slowly, stopping frequently to admire a flower or to point out a pile of scat or another sign of wildlife to anyone who would listen.

At first, Kurt walked with Mercedes, but she seemed content to stay close to Schuester, grateful for the frequent breaks as he droned on about using leaf scars as a method to identify species of trees.

Kurt soon found himself drawn to Martinez. None of the crew members could keep up with him. He seemed to bound up the side of the mountain like a gazelle. Kurt figured it was because Martinez had so much experience with this athletic style of hiking while Kurt and most of his fellow crew members had hardly experienced car camping, let alone a backcountry hike. But Kurt did his best to catch up to Martinez and soon he found himself far ahead of the rest of the group.

Kurt felt a real sense of accomplishment when he looked down the mountain and across the vast valley below. His speedy hike up the path earned him nearly an hour to rest, drink water, and explore the wooded ground that would soon become their campsite as he and Martinez waited for the rest of the group to reach the top.

Over the course of the week-long trip, Kurt learned how to set up a tent, how to cook on a propane stove, how to dig – and refill – a bathroom trench, and how to take a quick shower with a bottle of water on the cliff side.

He had been correct in his predictions. The cool breeze at the top of the mountain made the weather much more bearable and the work they did each day was surprisingly easy. In fact, most of the work consisted of walking along a trail that was already fairly well maintained and occasionally sawing down a broken tree limb or lopping off an encroaching branch to keep the trail clear.

He had worried that sleeping in one big group tent might pose some problems, especially when Dave and Azimio loudly refused to sleep anywhere near “the gay kid.” Luckily, Mike and Matt volunteered to sleep between Kurt and the other boys. Schuester and Martinez slept on the other side of Kurt, separating the boys from the Mercedes, Brittany, and Sugar.

It wasn't until their last full day of work at the top of the mountain that Mercedes told Kurt in hushed tones that he should watch out for Sebastian.

“What do you mean?” Kurt asked.

“I mean, Blaine told me something Sebastian said about you and I think you need to watch your back around him,” Mercedes said conspiratorially. She leaned closer to Kurt and added, “Don't trust him.”

“Why?” Kurt asked. “What exactly did Blaine say?”

“He said Sebastian wanted to place a bet with him – about you,” Mercedes said. “Sebastian said he would ‘get' you as soon as we come back from this backcountry trip.”

“Get me how?” Kurt said, wrinkling his brow in confusion.

Mercedes put a hand on her hip and leveled Kurt with a disbelieving look. When Kurt simply shrugged and looked at her questioningly, she said, “Wow. You really don't know? Sebastian thinks you're going to sleep with him. Apparently, he was bragging about how easy you'd be to seduce.”

Kurt wrinkles his nose and shakes his head dismissively. “No. Sebastian's not like that. Did you hear any of this yourself?”

“No,” Mercedes said. “Blaine told me at breakfast before we left. He was hoping I might warn you. He said he felt a little weird telling you himself.”

“Oh, well that explains it, then,” Kurt said nonchalantly, turning to snare a stray branch from a shrub with his loppers.

“You're not worried about it?” Mercedes asked doubtfully.

“Nah,” Kurt said confidently. “I think Blaine is just jealous because Sebastian was hitting on him before. Blaine turned him down, but when he talked with me about it I got the feeling he was still thinking about it and might change his mind. He probably can't stand to see Sebastian interested in someone else.”

“I guess,” Mercedes said slowly. “But I think you should be careful. You don't want to get in trouble again.”

Kurt laughed. “Blaine is the one I got in trouble with, not Sebastian. And Blaine and I didn't even do anything.”

Mercedes ignored Kurt's laughter. “I'm serious, Kurt. I care about you. A lot. And I have to admit, I kind of thought you and Blaine would end up together. He really is nice,” she added, giving him a pointed look.

“Blaine is nice,” Kurt agreed. “And he's a good friend. Just a friend.” Kurt turned and faced Mercedes again, his brow creased with worry. “Wait – you're not going to tell him that I think he's jealous, are you?”

“No,” Mercedes said quickly. “Of course not. I mean, I like Blaine, but I'm your friend first.”

Kurt smiled, dropping his shoulders in relief. “Thanks, Mercedes. I don't want to upset him or anything. And like I said, he's a great friend. But I'm not interested in getting into any more trouble – with Blaine or Sebastian or anyone else. I just want to finish this job, get my paycheck and maybe even a letter of recommendation, and get myself back into the glory of air conditioning and Wi-Fi as soon as possible.”

“I feel you,” Mercedes said enthusiastically. “When I get home I'm just going to sit on my butt and watch movies for a whole week.”

“That sounds great,” Kurt said sincerely. He started hacking at the shrub again, but Mercedes stopped him with another question.

“Even if Blaine was jealous, why would he say it like that? About Sebastian wanting to make a bet with him and everything? It doesn't really sound like something Blaine would come up with on his own.”

Kurt thought about it for a moment. “Maybe Sebastian did say something to him. After all, Sebastian did make it pretty clear to me that he was interested in me. I just think Blaine might be exaggerating the facts a bit. Besides, I wouldn't worry about it. No one is going to ‘get' me without my permission, okay? And Blaine being jealous of me getting Sebastian's attention isn't really that far-fetched. You know how Blaine likes to be the center of attention.”

Mercedes laughed. “Yeah, he's almost as bad as Rachel.”

Kurt took the opportunity to steer their conversation away from Blaine and Sebastian. He entertained Mercedes for the rest of the workday with stories of Rachel's most outrageous attention-seeking moments from high school.

Kurt busied himself with cooking that night. As the assigned cook, along with Mike, he wasn't required to clean up after the meal, but Kurt volunteered to help Brittany and Sugar with the dishes. And when the group had a final bonfire, Kurt even let himself laugh along with the whole group at the goofy antics of Dave and Azimio. When Dave suggested they tell ghost stories, Kurt surprised himself by being the first to agree. He and Mercedes shrieked and grabbed onto each other when Martinez shouted out the surprise ending of his ghastly tale. Kurt even told a story – he based it on the plot of an old black-and-white horror film that he doubted anyone else around the campfire had seen. Kurt's dramatic storytelling captivated his fellow crew members and even earned him a light punch on the shoulder from Azimio, followed quickly by, “You're all right, man.”

With all of this activity, Kurt successfully avoided thinking about what Mercedes told him until he was burrowed into his sleeping back later that night. No longer able to squelch his thoughts with busywork and chatter, Kurt tossed and turned in an effort to escape until Martinez whispered at him harshly to stay still for a minute so other people could fall asleep.

After that, Kurt stretched out on his back, staring unblinkingly into the darkness. He could almost feel Sebastian's strong arms around him, could almost see his confident smirk. The thought sent a thrill through Kurt. There was something inherently attractive about Sebastian's confidence and Kurt shivered in delight as he remembered the slight sense of danger he had felt in Sebastian's presence. It was flattering to think that Sebastian, who was sophisticated and worldly and regularly spent time in Manhattan, might find Kurt attractive. Smiling, Kurt pictured Sebastian's green eyes and his plush lips. He closed his eyes, wondering what those lips might feel like moving against his own and allowing himself to drift into sleep at last.