Kurt couldn't help watching Wes as he drove, steeped in a fascination bred from this unbearable tension. But as soon as he could get the anxiety in his chest to settle enough to let him think, Kurt began to notice a few things. Wes's Toyota Supra was built to drift. In fact, the Supra was a drifter's wet dream. Wes should definitely have had the advantage on this stretch of road, with its sharp turns, regardless of the uneven terrain. Kurt’s and Blaine's Mustangs were wide-bodied and bulky in comparison. They didn't hug the ground as well. By all means, they should have been the ones suffering. But every time the cars approached a turn, Wes anticipated the curve. He’d overcompensate his drift, and his car would almost skid out, losing him precious seconds in the recovery.

As they continued down the mountainside, Kurt began hatching a plan. Unfortunately, it would require a turn out, just a sliver of extra space somewhere on the shoulder of the road. Kurt didn’t know this road. He wasn't sure any such space existed on this stretch of the mountain. It was a risky plan to pin his hopes on something he wasn’t sure would be there when he needed it, but he had nothing else.

Blaine, Wes, and Kurt hit the turns, one after another. Each time, Wes nearly edged ahead, but Blaine had a lead foot, and for a street racer who drove solely American Muscle, he really knew how to drift his car. Kurt was going to have to consider exactly how much of a turn-on that was later when they were alone. But Kurt was right about Wes. Twice, Wes hugged the curve too close to the edge. His car almost slid too far and shot off the road. That's when Kurt saw it - a tiny window of opportunity up ahead. He broke out in a fit of frantic laughter when he spotted the exact thing he had hoped for – a cut in the road, extending the curve. Wes’s momentum would carry his car into it, making a space big enough for Kurt’s Mustang to sneak through, but only if Wes did what Kurt thought he would, and only if Kurt timed things right

Three cars hit the sharp left, the final turn on the hill, all of them at the same time. Blaine took it like a champ, recovering immediately, but Wes anticipated the turn and overcompensated, the way Kurt had counted on. Wes’s car drifted clear out of his view. Kurt saw an opening, a chance to advance, and took his shot. He gunned his engine. His wheels hit a patch of loose gravel and fought for purchase, but his brand new Pirelli tires caught the ground. His Mustang whipped forward, passing Wes in a flash.

Wes saw Kurt in his powder blue Mustang trying to blow by him, and he screamed in frustration. He yanked his steering wheel sharply to the left, vision hazy with blind rage, intent on pushing Kurt's car off the mountain. His Supra slid smoothly across the asphalt, aimed straight for Kurt's rear. Wes planned to take off the Mustang's bumper and send Kurt's car careening out of control, the same way police officers did to a suspect in pursuit. Then Wes could be done with him once and for all. Maybe Kurt would die. Maybe he'd just break every bone in his stupid-ass twink body, but a broken Kurt meant a broken Blaine, and that was good enough for Wes.

Wes slammed on the gas, his car aimed at Kurt's like a laser shot, barreling toward his Mustang at full speed, but Kurt had acted earlier, and Wes missed him by less than an inch. Kurt's Mustang rocketed past, and for barely a split second, Wes's tires spun out in the dirt. The three cars turned on to the straight away, with Kurt in the new position ahead of Wes. Solely out of shock that his plan had worked, Kurt's head snapped to the side. Simultaneously Kurt’s eyes and Blaine's eyes locked. Kurt could see Blaine screaming at him, a word that looked a lot like, "Now!" and Kurt reacted. Without even having to search out its location on his dash, his hand slammed down on his NOS release button. Both Blaine and Kurt managed to hit their NOS at the same time, sending both Mustangs flying away before Wes could even think.

Wes froze, realizing what he had done, the time he had wasted trying to get revenge. His fingers fumbled over his dash and he hit his NOS, but it was too little, too late. Wes knew he had lost. The twin Mustangs blurred into the distance, headed for victory. But it wasn’t only Kurt and Blaine; their whole gang of fucking Lima losers had bested him. While Wes and his team flailed, Blaine’s crew had come up with a strategy. They trusted each other, they worked together, and in the end, they won.

The two Mustangs slid past the finish, the longer nose of Kurt’s car coming in just a hair ahead. Onlookers scurried to the sides to avoid getting plowed, cheering as they scrambled out of the way. Kurt's heart, lodged firmly in his throat the entire ride down the straight away, thrummed out a single, drilling beat. Thump by thump, it banished the terror from his body. The Mustang weighed more than his Eclipse, and several times he thought he might spin out or worse - flip over. As soon as he saw Brittany's pink car glowing in the moonlight, he knew the race was over. He and Blaine had left Wes in the dust, and now, they had won.

It was over.

Come what may, the feud was done.

Kurt's car drifted to a stop, and he cut the engine. He collapsed in on himself, hugging the steering wheel, crying with relief, his chest heaving with the weight of his uncontrollable sobs. Shaking and crying, squeezing his eyes tight, he didn’t hear the tap at his window.

“Kurt? Kurt, baby? We won!”

The car door opened, and strong hands pulled him out. Familiar lips claimed his, and a body, shaking like his, pressed against him. Kurt wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and kissed him back, making a silent promise to never let him go.

Wes's car rolled in moments later, but no one seemed to notice. He and his car slunk off, away from the celebrating couple. The rest of the McKinley Crew crossed the finish line, honking their horns in celebration, having heard from Santana's texts that their crew had won.

Dalton's cars trickled in as well. A morose Sebastian and a defeated Jeff rolled by the McKinley Crew and parked beside Wes, preparing to turn over their vehicles. Wes stormed over to Sebastian and Jeff. Kurt saw him race by, and he knew this wasn’t going to end well for his friend. He longed to run over, but he felt helpless to do anything other than watch.

"I knew you were a loser, Sebastian!" Wes screamed. Cynthia grabbed Wes's arm, trying to tug him away and calm him down, but he wrenched his arm free with such force that she stumbled back, falling on her rear. "I should have fuckin’ sidelined you! I knew you were going to throw this race the minute you showed up in that fairy car!" Wes glared over Sebastian's shoulder at Jeff, who kept his head held high in the face of what he knew was coming his way. "And you," Wes roared, pointing a sharp finger straight at Jeff's chest, "are worthless!" Wes reached into his pocket for his phone. "Say good-bye to your boyfriend, you useless sack of shit!"

Before Wes could dial the number, Sebastian furiously snatched the phone away and tossed it. Over the din of onlookers racing down the mountainside to congratulate them, Kurt heard the phone hit the asphalt and shatter. He saw Wes's eyes, brimming with anger and shock, widening as Sebastian backed him up against his Supra.

"Leave him alone," Sebastian growled, his voice darker and more dangerous than Kurt had ever heard. "It's over. You lost. They won. Get over it."

Sebastian turned away, taking Jeff's arm as he passed and leading him over to a waiting Nick. Nick gave Sebastian a grateful smile and wrapped Jeff in his arms, kissing his boyfriend’s face anywhere his lips could touch.

Blaine waited for the spectators to back off, for the hugs and cheers to die down, before he approached Wes with Kurt in tow. Wes glared at Blaine and Kurt with obvious disgust. Blaine stretched out a hand. Wes thrust the title to his car in his direction, but Blaine batted it away.

"I don't want the damn car!" Blaine said. "I want this to be over! I want my friend again!"

Wes looked at Blaine and Kurt, standing in front of him. His eyes stayed cold, but Blaine hoped against hope that he saw a glint of something in them. Maybe he could break through the ice and get to him, to the Wes he used to know.

Wes sneered and tossed the paper in Blaine's face.

"Whatever," he said, rolling his head on his neck, walking off in the direction of his sour and discarded girlfriend. "Suck it, losers."

Blaine watched him go, leave without looking back. Blaine dropped his shoulders and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said, kissing his boyfriend on the cheek. “I know you were hoping for a different outcome.

“Yeah,” Blaine said. “I guess you can’t win them all.”

“True,” Kurt agreed, “but I think you won the important one.”

“Why do you say that?” Blaine asked, watching Kurt fish his phone out of his pocket and pull up a number.

“Because the race you won didn’t just affect you, or me, but all of your friends.” Kurt rested his head on Blaine’s shoulder as he composed a text. “You did a good thing, the right thing. And who knows? Maybe someday Wes will realize that.”

Blaine nodded, then motioned to Kurt’s phone. "What's up, darling?"

Kurt smiled shyly. "You know, you only call me darling when we're having sex."

Blaine winked.

"Well, darling" - Blaine repeated the nickname with emphasis - "I guess you know where my mind is." Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist. "So, who are you texting?"

Kurt shifted in Blaine’s embrace, trying to ignore, for the moment, Blaine's growing hard-on.

"Well, we all agreed that if we won, we'd sell off their cars and split the money. I'm texting that guy I used to flip cars with to come pick them up."

"Yeah, about that," Blaine said with a wicked gleam in his eye, "I've never met this guy. How long have the two of you been...uh...flipping cars?"

Kurt smacked Blaine on the shoulder with one hand as he pressed send.

"Shut up, Anderson," Kurt laughed. "Look at your life right now."

"I am," Blaine whispered, nibbling his boyfriend's neck. "And it looks pretty hot."

The title to Hunter's car was the easiest to get. He already had it in his outstretched hand when Mike and Tina approached.

"Uh…thanks." Mike took the paper, raising his eyebrows at Tina, who seemed equally bemused. Hunter turned back to his iPhone, barely acknowledging the couple.

"Like I care," Hunter grumbled. "My dad's buying me a Ferrari for getting into premed. He’ll just write this off as a charitable donation."

“Alright, then,” Mike said, leading his girlfriend away.

“Good luck in medical school,” Tina called back, and Hunter gave her a disinterested nod.

Sebastian made his way over to Kurt and Blaine. With a sad smile, he handed the keys to the Eclipse over to Kurt. Kurt closed his hand around them, the familiar feeling he used to get when he held them, that weight that always gave him comfort, gone.

"I don’t understand,” Kurt said. “Why did Wes give you my car?"

"I bought it from him,” Sebastian explained, “the day after you came by. Once the thrill wore off, he was willing to part with it for the blue book price.”

Kurt shook his head, more confused after that answer. Even without taking his mods into account, Kurt’s Eclipse, in its current condition, would set Sebastian back a bit. Kurt never could comprehend, considering the way he and his father had struggled most of his life, how tens of thousands were pocket change to these boys.

“But…why did you?” Kurt asked.

Sebastian shrugged. “I didn't want to see it destroyed." Kurt looked into Sebastian’s eyes, waiting for more, and Sebastian stared down at his feet. "I thought that, maybe, if I got it back for you, then..." Sebastian glanced up at Kurt and Blaine's linked hands. "But, I guess I never had a chance, huh?" He let out a small laugh.

Kurt shook his head.

"Nobody did," Kurt said, pulling Blaine closer to his side.

"I can see that." Sebastian shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes shimmering. He looked at Blaine, whose default glare for Sebastian seemed to have softened. Sebastian extended a hand Blaine's way.

"Congratulations," he said. “The better man won.”

Blaine took Sebastian's hand and shook it.

“Thanks, man.”

Blaine shook Sebastian's hand once more, then let go and wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist. Sebastian turned to walk away, but stepped back at the last minute.

"Look, I know I behaved horribly, and I'm not asking you to forgive me, but if there's anything I can do to make up for it, please..."

Kurt glanced over at Jeff and Nick, holding on to each other for dear life. Jeff kissed Nick desperately, his chest heaving with silent sobs. Kurt could only imagine how Jeff felt. He knew what he had put in danger to help them.

"Yeah" - Kurt faced Sebastian - "there is one thing."

"Name it.”

"Keep an eye on Nick and Jeff. Don't let Wes do anything to hurt them." Kurt glanced back at the two hugging boys, with Sebastian and Blaine following suit. Nick gazed up at Jeff's face, wiping tears from his cheeks.

Sebastian nodded. "Will do."

Sebastian looked at Kurt one last time. Without warning, he moved in and kissed Kurt on the cheek. Kurt felt Blaine tense behind him, but Sebastian didn’t stay long, turning and walking quickly away.

Kurt's eyes followed Jeff and Nick, walking hand in hand back to Jeff's car. Nick rubbed Jeff's arm with his free hand, whispering words only his boyfriend could hear, with Jeff nodding from time to time. It broke Kurt’s heart to watch them. There had to be something he could do to fix this. They’d both sacrificed too much to lose out just because they were part of Wes’s team. Brittany and Santana suddenly crossed into his line of sight, blending into his view of Nick and Jeff, and giving Kurt a sudden stroke of inspiration. He broke away from Blaine and jogged over to the girls leisurely strolling towards Brittany’s car.

"Brittany!" Kurt called, catching up. "Do you remember that favor you owe me?"

"Of course," Brittany said.

"Well...can I use it now?"

Nick held Jeff's hand as Jeff gave a last long look at his beloved 300ZX.

"Don't worry." Nick said, reaching up to kiss the corner of Jeff's mouth. "We'll get you another one."

“Yeah,” Jeff said, unconvinced. “Okay.”

Both boys heard the click of high heels on asphalt coming up behind them as Santana and Brittany stalked their way, ready to collect the title to Jeff’s car. Brittany clutched Santana's hand, beaming ear to ear.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't another pair of pretty ponies," Santana smirked at the couple in front of her.

Brittany eyed Jeff's car, nibbling her lip and bouncing on the balls of her feet with excitement.

"This is such a pretty car," Brittany commented.

"Thanks," Jeff replied, hanging his head and squeezing Nick's hand a little tighter.

"You're Kurt's friend," Brittany continued. "He's a unicorn. So is Blaine. And I think maybe you are, too."

Nick eyed the girls, one, then the other, wondering why they were torturing his poor boyfriend this way.

Santana held out her hand, and Jeff lifted his, handing over the papers to his car.

"Hummel talks a lot about you," Santana said. "He says you're a real good guy, that you threw yourself into the fray for our boy Blaine."

Jeff nodded sadly. Brittany stepped away from Santana and peeked up into his face, putting a gentle finger to the fading welt beneath his right eye.

"Ouch," she said.

Santana held her hand out for Brittany, and Brittany took it.

"Santana," Brittany said, "you said I could have the car."

"Yes, you can, sweetie." Santana passed the title along to her. Nick's eyes followed it while Jeff stood stoically, staring at his feet.

"And I can do whatever I want with it?" Brittany asked.

"Whatever you want, baby," Santana confirmed. Brittany hopped up and down before stepping forward again.

"Then, I'm giving it back to you," she sang, handing the paperwork to Jeff. The blond boy snapped his head up, stunned. Brittany pecked him quickly on the lips and skipped her way back to Santana.

"Wh-what?" Jeff stuttered, with Nick stuck on stupid at his side. "But, you guys won. You have the right..."

"…to take your car and do whatever we want with it," Santana said, rolling her eyes. "And I did. I gave it to my girl Brittany, and she's giving it back to you."

Jeff couldn't speak, holding the title in his trembling hand. Nick stared at the girls, mouth open, but he, too, was speechless.

"Thank you," Jeff said finally, holding the title tight to his chest. "Just...thank you."

"Well, don't get all mushy on us, tiny dancer," Santana said, hiding her smile as she tugged Brittany's hand and led her away.

Jeff swept his head around, searching for an explanation. He caught a glimpse of Kurt, staring back at him, and smiled.

Thank you, he mouthed.

Kurt gave him a wink. He didn't feel it was necessary for Jeff to thank him. Jeff deserved to keep his car, and so much more.

The onlookers departed the mountain, and with them, the Dalton Crew. The McKinley Crew said goodbye to their fearless leaders, leaving Kurt and Blaine to wait for the truck that would come and tow the Dalton cars away…all except Jeff's.

Jeff, who saw no reason to leave the conveniently dark and quiet mountain so soon, squirreled his boyfriend away somewhere deep into the shadows, out of sight. Kurt and Blaine watched with amusement as the two eagerly hurried off. After everything that had happened, after coming so close to losing each other, they could give a shit about stealth at this point, with Jeff’s shirt already mostly off, and Nick’s jeans unbuttoned.

Kurt couldn't be happier for them.

"So, you got your Eclipse back," Blaine remarked, looking from his boyfriend's smiling face to the now vacant mountain. One of the Dalton Crew had rescued poor Cameron and brought them his title. Blaine eyed the Porsche Boxster, sitting wounded in the distance.

"Yeah" - Kurt followed Blaine's gaze up to the silver car - "but I think I'm going to sell it along with the rest," Kurt said dismissively. "You know, to make up for giving Jeff back his car."

Blaine furrowed his brow.

"But why?" Blaine asked. "You love that car."

"Because" - Kurt gazed deep into Blaine's honey gold eyes - "I think the Mustang's a little more my style."

Blaine grinned as he looked down at their linked hands.

"I think it is," Blaine agreed, inching closer. "And I have to admit, the Mustang makes me hot."

"I know it does." Kurt leaned forward and claimed Blaine's lips, humming as they softly moved with his.

"And the best thing about it," Blaine whispered against Kurt's lips.

"Back seats?" Kurt finished.

"Mm-hmm. By the way, when did your friend say he was going to get here?"

"About an hour." Kurt walked Blaine backward toward his Mustang, fumbling behind him for the door handle.

"Mmm" - Blaine moved his hands down to Kurt's ass and pulled him close - "I think that'll be enough time. More than enough if you curse for me, darling."

Kurt dragged his boyfriend into the back seat of his car, and Blaine pulled the door shut.

Eight months later

New York in July was hot. Hotter than Kurt had ever expected. Every window in their small apartment was open, but the air hung heavy, drenched with humidity, no breeze anywhere to cool his overheating skin. The tiny oscillating fan they’d bought did nothing but move the stagnant heat around. The friction against his sweaty back was almost unbearable, but not enough to make him want to stop.

Blaine had been moving in and out of Kurt's body for the better part of an hour, and Kurt was delighted that he didn't really see an end in sight. But even though Blaine said he craved Kurt 24/7, Kurt was sure his boyfriend had ulterior motives.

"Nnnngh, Blaine," Kurt moaned, circling his arms behind his head to cradle Blaine's neck, "I love a good fuck fest as much as the next horny gay, but don't you think we should unpack at some point?" Kurt swept his eyes around the room at the wall of unpacked boxes.

"No," was Blaine's brief and pointed answer.

"I...uh, God... I never realized it was going to be so hot out here," Kurt complained, leaning into Blaine's mouth as Blaine sucked a mark onto Kurt's shoulder. Blaine reached behind him to a bowl on the nightstand that an hour ago had been filled with ice, but was now overflowing with frigid water. He dipped his hand inside, cupped out some of the cool liquid, and poured it over Kurt's side. Small rivers of ice cold water dribbled across Kurt's chest and stomach, cooling Kurt down, but only in those spots. Still, it was better than nothing.

"Thank you, baby," Kurt purred, leaning his head against Blaine's shoulder. Blaine ran the backs of his fingers along Kurt's skin, chuckling when Kurt giggled at the ticklish sensation.

"You know," Kurt continued, stretching out like a cat against the relaxing movements of his boyfriend's body pushing into his, "I can't help but...mmmm...think that maybe...oh yes...you're doing this to keep up with the neighbors."

As if spurred on by the mention of their existence, a dual moan rang through the paper thin walls, along with a couple of loud, rhythmic bangs as a headboard made contact with the plaster.

"Yeah, well," Blaine mumbled against the shell of Kurt’s ear, "Jeff and Nick are just lucky they could get the apartment next to ours. I'm not sure anyone else would be able to stand that."

Jeff and Nick had arrived shortly after six in the morning. From what Kurt could tell, they had jumped immediately into bed...and hadn't gotten out since. At nearly eight in the evening, Kurt was certain they'd have to take a break to eat.

As it turned out, apparently not.

Kurt chuckled as the banging continued, and a faint chant of, "Yes! Jeff! There, Jeff! God, Jeff!" filled the air.

"God, Nick," Blaine muttered, thrusting harder with annoyance, "I'm sure your super hung boyfriend knows his name by now."

Kurt bit his lip so as not to retort. Blaine also had a habit of singing Kurt’s praises during sex in the form of a long repetitive grunt of Kurt’s name, but now didn’t seem like the time to point that out.

Blaine had been present at Kurt and Jeff’s NYADA auditions in the April Rhodes Auditorium at McKinley. After Kurt's flawless rendition of Not The Boy Next Door, complete with a pair of tight gold pants that made Blaine salivate, Jeff had performed two routines - one classical, one hip-hop, both while wearing extremely tight Spandex skinny jeans.

Blaine dug his nails into his thigh as he watched his boyfriend follow Jeff's every move in those obnoxious pants that left nothing to the imagination. For days, he had to listen to the praise that Kurt heaped on Jeff through numerous phone conversations, soothing Jeff's rattled nerves as he waited to hear whether or not he had gotten accepted.

He got in, of course. Jeff was an amazing dancer. And he had driven all the way to Kurt's shop just to leap out of his car, grab Kurt around the waist, and spin him around in the air.

If Blaine didn't love Jeff like a brother, he'd hate him with a burning passion.

Of course, when Kurt found out that Blaine had applied for and gotten accepted to the music therapy program at NYU, he had spent the following hour on his knees congratulating him, so Blaine couldn't be too sore about a little hug.

Blaine ran his fingers down Kurt's heated skin, kissing over Kurt's shoulders.

"Kurt" - Blaine spoke so softly that Kurt almost didn't hear him - "are you happy?"

Kurt's racing heart stuttered at the question. He smiled, struggling to decide whether or not he should keep hidden something Blaine didn’t know he knew.

"Are you still planning to ask me to marry you after graduation?"

Blaine stopped moving.

"H-how did you find out about that?" Blaine asked.

"I may have heard you talk to my dad about it."

Blaine stayed still, snaking his arm around his boyfriend's chest.

"Do you love me?" Blaine held Kurt close.

Kurt laced his hands over Blaine's arm.

"More today than yesterday," Kurt responded honestly, "and only a little less than I will tomorrow."

"Then, yes, Kurt" - Blaine kissed Kurt's shoulder - "it is absolutely my intention, after we graduate college, to become an Anderson-Hummel."

Blaine got a sudden surge, and started a maddening pace in and out of his boyfriend's hole, sending shivers up Kurt's spine, but nowhere near where Kurt needed Blaine's cock.

"So, you've been eavesdropping, huh?" Blaine grinned wickedly against Kurt's skin so he could feel it brand his shoulder.

Kurt bit his lip harder, not thinking that he would be punished for his revelation.

"Um...is it too late to apologize?"

"That depends," Blaine growled, "am I going to have to listen to you tell Nick again how sexy Jeff's tongue piercing is?" Blaine slammed into Kurt's body, barely brushing that sensitive spot where Kurt needed attention.

That gave Kurt his answer.

"So," Kurt panted, squirming beneath Blaine's assault, "are you going to let me cum anytime soon?"

"Well, darling, anytime soon doesn't look too good for you, and the next hour is shaping up as kind of bad. Just plan on being here for the rest of the evening."

Somewhere around one in the morning, Kurt fell asleep, sweaty but sated, in his boyfriend's arms, dreaming of their long and happy future.

It was a beautiful thing.

The end.