After Kurt leaves I take a scalding hot shower to calm myself down some more and to try to take my mind off him. Only problem is I have a wandering mind, and a very active imagination.

            "Oh god..." I groan as my mind conjures a picture of Kurt, a man who very much enjoys being in charge, pleading me to fuck him, hard. My cock twitches at the image, hardening and throbbing. "No, no, no!"

            Maybe cold water will help, I think so I turn the hot knob all the way to the right and the cold to the left, hoping it'll shock my senses and stop this nonsense. Sadly it helps not at all and next thing I know I'm coming hard and fast against the wall with no help whatsoever from my hand.

            Gasping from the intense orgasm I keep the shower running and continue as I was before my imagination so rudely interrupted. After a few minutes I step out and towel myself off before throwing on an old pair of sweats and heading to the kitchen to scrounge something up for lunch.

Later, just as I'm starting to doze off, my phone bleeps with a new text message. Rolling over and turning the screen on I see it's from Kurt. With a confused from I open the message.

            It reads: Hey Blainers! Just wondering how everything's going down tomorrow :)

            I hit reply and start typing.

            Me: Are you drunk??

            The answer comes immediately. Kurt: No of course not!

            Me: Why'd you call me Blainers then?

            Ice Queen: I can't have a pet name for my lovely fiancé? :(

            Me: ...what are you doing?

            Ice Queen: Playing the part silly! What else?

            Me: Kurt nobody's reading our texts, no need to act like this

            Ice Queen: Fine, whatever... I got a car to pick us up from our apartments and take us to the airport by 6:30pm. That good?

            Me: Yeah fine.

                   Oh and when packing try not to include any kilts or the like.

            Ice Queen: Why?

            Me: Just... please? No kilts?

            Ice Queen: *sigh* fine. No kilts.

                     I suppose thigh-high boots are out of the question as well

            Me: Only if the heels are more than two inches.

            Ice Queen: ...alright.

                     You made hotel reservations right? Separate rooms?

            Me: Please. Think of who you're talking to here.

            Ice Queen: Oh of course, my mistake.

            Me: Yes. Make sure it doesn't happen again.

            Ice Queen: Oh no, definitely not

            With that the conversation ends.

            It's not until I'm about to fall asleep again that a thought hits me: Was I just flirting with my boss?

            The next day I make perfect timing, getting my luggage downstairs just as Kurt calls me to say he and the car are there. After making sure the driver has no trouble with my luggage I get in the back with Kurt and turn to face him.

            "I meant to ask you yesterday," I say, "how do you know where I live?"

            He just smiles brightly and says, "I have my ways."

            I stare at him a minute before deducing, "You checked my file, didn't you?"

            His face falls. "Way to ruin the fun."

            I cock my head and narrow my eyes. "You've been in an awfully chipper mood since last night. Are you on something?"

            He snorts delicately. "Please. As if the Kurt Hummel would do something as degrading as take drugs."

            Ahh, there he is. I hum in acknowledgment.

            Though the fight is a short one, I had hoped to use it to relax before entering the lions' den. Kurt, however, has different plans.

            "Okay," he says, taking out the packet of questions I gave him and flipping to the page he wants, "there are a few questions you didn't answer, such as where we stay when we spend the night together - which is obviously my place."

            "And why's that?" I can't help but ask.

            "Well from what I saw yesterday - and there wasn't much at all - I would say we'd be more comfortable at mine."

            "Because it's not a small studio apartment."

            "Precisely," he answers with a smirk. "I do live on Upper Fifth after all."

            I roll my eyes as Kurt flips to his next question.

            "Now this one asks about tattoos; you indicate you have one but not what it is or where," he says.

            "Was there a question in there somewhere?"

            "What is your tattoo of and where is it?"

            "Nope sorry, that's privileged information."

            "You know Brolden's going to ask me about it."

            "You're just gonna have to come up with a clever answer now aren't you?"

            Kurt sighs in exasperation.

            He's quiet so long I think he's finished but he speaks up again.

            "Yesterday, before I got to your apartment, you had a panic attack... didn't you?" Kurt asks.

            When it's clear I'm not going to answer Kurt continues. "I mean, your hair was sticking up all over the place like you'd run your hands through it or something, and you were crying. Not to mention you yelled at me, quite rudely if I may say, before you dashed out."

            That gets a reaction out of me. I turn in my seat and look at him. "I... I did?" he nods an affirmation. "I'm sorry," I sigh, "sometimes I just - sometimes I -" I try to explain but my throat sticks and no more words come out.

            Brow furrowed, Kurt says quietly, probably not intending for me to hear (though who knows with him), "You're really fucked up, aren't you?"

            I chuckle darkly. "You haven't even the slightest fucking idea..."

            Upon arriving at the Columbus airport, and going down to baggage claim, I run into my brother.

            "Cooper!" I exclaim.

            "Little brother!" he yells back.

            After a short embrace I pull back. "What're you doing here? Mother said you were staying in LA to spend the holidays with Ali's family."

            "Yeah that over," he says somewhat sheepishly.

            "Coop!" I groan. "C'mon, I actually liked this one! And father didn't, so that was an added bonus!"

            "I know..." Cooper says as we start walking toward the exit. "But we just didn't click on a -"

            "She couldn't handle your ego anymore, could she?" I interrupt.

            Coop clutches his chest. "Ouch, Blaine, you hurt me," he says before we both burst out laughing.

            "Umm guys?" Kurt calls from way behind us. "A little help!"

            Cooper runs to his aid as I groan inwardly, trailing him slowly.

            "You must be the infamous Ice Queen Blaine's been whining to me and mother about the past few years," I hear Cooper say as I approach.

            Kurt raises his chin confidently. "That'd be me."

            "You know, when Blaine called you the Ice Queen, I thought you were a woman, but this really explains all the sexual frustration I was detecting."

            "Coop!" I exclaim in astonishment.

            "Though I have no clue why he would be frustrated if you've been slipping him the hot beef injection this whole time," he continues, ignoring me.

            "Oh god..." I groan, covering my face in embarrassment.

            When Kurt speaks I can hear the smirk in his voice. "I think the frustration is that I won't let him give it to me."

            "Really?" Cooper asks, all ears.

            "Okay!" I shout over him. "Let's stop talking about this - in public in Ohio - and head to the hotel."

            Cooper looks up from one of Kurt's suitcases he was pulling the handle out of. "Oh didn't mother tell you?" he asks. "You guys are staying at the house, in your old room."

            I raise a brow skeptically as we start walking again. "The both of us? In one room? Really?" Coop nods. "How'd she convince father to allow that?"

            "Oh he doesn't know."

            "How'd she manage that?!"

            His only reply is a shrug.

            Kurt speaks up again. "Um, I know this is Ohio, but... why is it such a big deal that we're staying in the same room?"

            I turn my head slightly toward him. "Oh, didn't I tell you? My father is a homophobe."