Kurt’s arms wrapped around the taller man’s neck as they danced, or at really, grinded, to the fast techno beat echoing around them loudly, making Kurt’s bones vibrate.

The man he was dancing with (Kurt wasn’t really sure what his name was; it might have started with a C) rested his hands on the curve of his ass, which pulled him closer and closer as the song played on, rubbing their hips together with more force. Kurt moaned quietly, not even overheard because of the loud bass around them, at the friction.

Kurt pulled the man’s head down, speaking into his ear with a low tone, though still overheard over the music. “Bathroom - now.” The man heard the simple command, pulling Kurt by the hand through the dense crowd and to the club’s surprisingly sanitary bathroom. On the way they encountered other couples with similar thoughts in mind.

Once they had reached the bathroom, pushing open the door and only sparing a moment to see if there was anyone else in the room, Kurt was pushed almost roughly against the wall. The man (Caleb, Kurt suddenly remembered) reached down to capture Kurt’s lips in his own. Tongues and teeth clashed for dominance.

Kurt reached forward, pulling Caleb forward by his jean belt loops, moaning lowly as he felt the friction he needed.

Caleb's hand cupped Kurt’s ass, bringing their bodies closer together. “You're so hot,” Caleb whispered in his ear, making him moan again.

Kurt flipped them quickly, palms pressed against Caleb's chest as he worked open the belt buckle on his pants. Caleb gripped his hair and tilted head to bite and suck at his neck. “Don't leave marks,” Kurt hissed as his hand dipped inside Caleb's jeans.

Caleb threw his head back against the wall, and Kurt’s fingers curled around his hard cock. He rested his head on Caleb's shoulder while he moved his hand in fast, steady motions. Caleb cried out, and Kurt couldn't help himself when he began to grind his own erection into Caleb's thigh.

“Do this often?” Caleb panted into his neck, and Kurt ignored it. He really hated when his hook ups talked so much.

He worked his hand faster, twisting his wrist when Caleb gave an exceptionally loud shout. Kurt groaned, his hair beginning to stick to his forehead as his moved erratically. “Come for me. Or I'll stop and you'll be left here with a hard on.”

Caleb looked at him, breath short. “You wouldn't.”

“Do you really want to try me?” Kurt snapped, his own orgasm already looming. He pressed his thumb over the head Caleb's cock, sliding through the come that had gathered on the slit.

Kurt felt Caleb's body tense and he skillfully twisted his wrist. Caleb came hard over Kurt’s hand, strings of white falling around his fingers.

He bit down on Caleb's shoulder as he came, his body shuddering from the force. His fingers gripped Caleb's waist until he could breath.

Kurt’s legs wobbled as he stood up straighter and walked over to one of the sinks, leaning over to splash his face with some cold water and wipe the uncomfortable sheen of sweat away. He felt Caleb walk behind him, arms coming to rest around his waist. He leaned down to speak into his ear.

“Want to come back to my place? That was just the preview,” he said, in a sticky tone.

Kurt rolled his eyes, shaking off his hands to reach for a paper towel. He dried his face, then looked over at the man. “Sorry, preview wasn’t that fantastic. I think I’ll go back to dancing.” Kurt leaned over and kissed Caleb’s cheek quickly, then winked. “Thanks though.”

Kurt walked out of the bathroom, leaving the other man with a incredulous expression.

——

Kurt ended up sipping on a drink that he’d flirted the bartender out of, just enough to get a buzz but not enough to get drunk. He’d never do that again. He left the club a little after midnight so he could make it home by one, sneaking into his basement room quietly.

The best thing about being home schooled was that his dad didn’t really care what time he came home or got up to do work, as long as the work got done.

Kurt woke up later in the morning, closer to noon, and poured himself coffee. He freshened up his dad’s cup, as well, sitting with him in the living room as he watched some game on the television.

“So,” began his dad, turning away from the television and muting it.

That was never good.

“Kurt, I know we’ve been doing the home schooled thing since the middle of your freshman year…” There was a brief silence. Kurt remembered the pain of that night, for only a moment, before pushing it away. “But you’re gonna be a junior in a few weeks. I was thinking that maybe you’d wanna try going to school again.”

“Not doing home school?” asked Kurt, a little surprised at the line of conversation. Kurt had thought about wanting to go back to school this past year, but his dad wasn’t hearing it. He wanted to keep him safe.

“Yeah. You see, I was at work and one of my clients was telling me about this private school,” began his dad. He leaned over and pulled a pamphlet from the table, handing it to Kurt. Kurt looked down at it. There was a emblazoned, red “D” on the cover.

“Dalton Academy?” Kurt hadn’t heard of it. He opened the paper and scanned the page. “Westerville?”

“It’s only about half an hour from here,” said his dad. “So you’d have a bit of a drive every day, but I think it would be worth it. They have a zero tolerance harassment policy. The last time a kid was being made fun of for being gay there, the bully got expelled. He didn’t even touch him, just called him names and stuff.”

“It’s expensive,” said Kurt bluntly.

“The garage is in good shape,” said his dad. “And we’ve barely touched the money we sued the kids parents for. That will cover your tuition for the next two years - if you end up wanting to go there.”

Kurt looked down at the pamphlet and sighed. He didn’t mind going to school, but it would cut into some of his free time…and he’d only get out to the club on the weekends, probably. But then, he’d actually be around other kids his age…

A spike of fear welled up in his chest for a moment. Kurt wasn’t good at making friends. He was good at flirting with guys and getting what he wanted, whether it was a make out or a blow job, but friends…that was hard. That was personal.

The policy about bullying was attractive, though. And sometimes being home all day was boring. It would probably get him out of working at his dad’s garage, too, not that Kurt didn’t sometimes like fixing cars.

“I’ll go,” he said suddenly.

Kurt hoped he wouldn’t regret this.