Kurt didn't have a full grasp on what he'd just done until he fumbled his keys out of his pocket and unlocked his car. The drive back to his apartment passed in a haze and Kurt barely remembered unlocking his front door and stepping inside.

It wasn't until flopped onto his couch that Kurt allowed himself to really think about what he'd just done. He shut his eyes in delayed embarrassment as he recalled the conversation he'd had with Santana before he left.

"Look, I'm not the type of guy who does..." Kurt gestured helplessly around the reception area as he struggled to find his voice. "This. I'm not one to engage in this sort of activity and i'm certainly not about to start now. don't know what came over me but, really, I'm not that kind of guy."

Santana just stood there, leaning against the desk with a smirk playing on her lips.

"Look, Mr. Hummel, you aren't the first, nor will you be the last guy that I've come across in the same state of denial. All of you are so uptight and pathetically high strung. Tell me, before today, when was the last time you got laid."

Kurt blushed to the tips of his ears as he recalled the way Blaine felt around him, on top of him. He didn't bother denying what Santana obviously already knew and settled for studying the fascinating patterns in the carpet.

"That's what I thought," Santana said, after the silence stretched on for long enough.

Kurt ignored the smirk that he could hear in her voice and reached for his wallet.

"Okay fine, so it's been a while. But that doesn't mean that I'm okay with it. At least let me pay for the...services. I don't want to be an ungrateful customer."

Kurt had already taken out his credit card, unaware that a few bits of paper were fluttering to the ground.

Santana waved a dismissive hand and made no move to take Kurt's outstretched card.

"This one is on the house. I don't normally give."

Kurt was ready to argue with her implication that he'd be returning. but he thought better of it and sighed as he turned to leave. Truth be told, he was somewhat relieved to leave. He also didn't want to think of the charges that would have shown up on his monthly credit card statement if Santana had accepted payment.

Kurt opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling above him. How could he have been so foolish and desperate? He was practically an advocate for not needing sex in order to be happy and he'd basically shoved all of that out of the window as fiercely as he shoved his cock into Blaine-

'No. I am not going to think about this.' Kurt took a deep breath and looked around in a desperate attempt to distract himself. Normally, he would clean his apartment when he was determined to avoid thinking about something. Unfortunately, this meant that his apartment was impeccable and there was nary a speck of dust in sight.

Kurt gave up on his search, opting to take a shower. While he may not know exactly how to deal with his recent actions, there was no reason to force his personal hygiene to suffer. He curled his lips in disgust, realizing that he'd been in the same clothes for much longer than should be allowed.

He chose to ignore the fact that, if he concentrated enough, Blaine's scent faintly clung to his shirt, under the smell of sweat and sex.

---

Kurt spent the rest of Saturday and all day Sunday doing any and everything that he could to forget about his night with Blaine. Though his apartment was nearly spotless, due to the long hours he pulled at the office, he cleaned every corner that even suggested a speck of dust. He reorganized his extended record collection, constantly torn between whether to categorize them by year, genre, artist, or the color of the album cover.

Once Monday rolled around, Kurt was determined to throw himself back into his work. He scheduled several back-to-back meetings, constantly criticized every minuscule detail of the fall collection, and continuously barked orders at Rachel with more force than necessary. By Wednesday, everyone on Kurt's floor was walking on pins and needles. None of them wanted to be the one to set him off. Just the day before, an intern who had only been with Rheinhold & Co. for three weeks made the mistake of putting three sugar cubes in Kurt's mid-afternoon tea, instead of his usual two. When he was done with her, the girl was seen running out of his office in tears and Rachel wasn't anywhere to be found for the rest of the day.

Today, she was hiding out in the break room with Tina, Mercedes' assistant, discussing the possible causes for Kurt's latest reign of terror.

"I don't know, Tina, the last time I saw him like this was back in '05 when he almost had to pull the spring couture collection because of a last-minute model mix-up," Rachel shuddered as she recalled that hectic time. "I didn't sleep for two weeks and by the time everything was sorted out, I'd sprouted three premature gray hairs!"

Tina crooned in sympathy over her coffee mug. "Maybe it has something to do with the European expansion." Tina took a sip of her coffee before continuing. "I mean, Mercedes hasn't seemed too stressed but, then again, she's always been good at keeping her stress under control."

Rachel shrugged, not really sure what could have made her boss so utterly irate over the past few days. She was used to him becoming more demanding whenever it was time for a new collection to launch but he was never this far gone. Rachel didn't have much time to dwell any further before a shout from down the hall made her blood run cold.

"RACHEL BERRY!"

The pair froze at the unmistakable sound of Kurt's voice traveling across the floor. The rapidly approaching click-click of designer shoes became louder as they drew nearer to the break room. Rachel and Tina could only stare at the doorway in horror as Kurt filled the doorframe, eyes blazing and jaw clenched.

"Rachel," he began calmly, in complete contrast to his expression. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but do I pay you to sit in here, gulping down countless cups of cheap coffee?" Kurt stepped inside, ignoring a terrified Tina rushing past him. She shot Rachel an apologetic look as she scuttled to the safety of her own desk.

"No," Rachel muttered, not daring to make eye contact with her boss. At this point, Kurt was like a whistling kettle and the last thing Rachel wanted to do was make him explode.

"So please, tell me why you are sitting in here, doing exactly that?" Kurt crossed his arms and eyed Rachel. Truth be told, he wasn't really upset with Rachel. Only mildly annoyed, at best. But ever since his...incident over the past weekend, he'd become irrationally upset over the smallest things. At least his office tirade gave him an outlet. It also ensured that work was completed quickly and efficiently. As a result, the preparations were two weeks ahead of schedule. As far as Kurt was concerned, he was killing two birds with one stone.

"Well...you see..." Rachel was stalling and they both knew it. Kurt looked at the woman sitting before him, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched over the coffee mug. He took pity on Rachel and sighed. Maybe he was being a little harsh.

"Save it, Rachel. Just get back to your desk and don't let it happen again. Lord knows you're one of the last semi-competent people on this staff and I can't afford to fire you with little more than three weeks left before Fashion Week." Kurt didn't wait for a response before he spun on his heel and strode out of the break room, smirking as he heard Rachel rush to her feet in her haste to follow him.

Once he was back in the safe haven of his office, Kurt finally allowed himself to relax. He sunk into the expensive leather of his custom made office chair and simply breathed in the scent of the imported tea that he always drank.

I have to get a handle on myself, he thought. Even though it was Wednesday, every time Kurt closed his eyes, he could see Blaine's eyes staring right back at him. Amused and challenging, as if Blaine thought Kurt were just another desperate joe who just wanted to get his rocks off.

But isn't that what you are? Kurt rolled his eyes at his annoying inner voice. Why did it always show up at the worst times? Before it could offer any more insightful dialogue, Kurt figured he'd go through his emails to take his mind off of his predicament.

The first thing he noticed sitting at the top of his inbox made his heart skip a beat. It was from Masquerade and, according to the subject line, it was an email thanking him for his business. Before he realized what he was doing, Kurt opened the email and skimmed its contents. It was clearly formatted to be sent out to hundreds of recipients at a moment's notice. But it was the last line that Kurt found himself rereading.

While it was your first visit to Masquerade, we hope it won't be your last. We look forward to seeing you soon, Mr. Hummel.

Kurt snorted at the thought. See him soon? Sure, that was likely, considering the state that it left him in the first time. Kurt deleted the email and continued scrolling through the rest of his messages, replying when necessary. By the time he and the rest of the staff went home for the day, the email was firmly planted in the back of his mind.