The rest of the week was a blur for Kurt. While he slightly eased up on scaring Rachel into hysterics with his rants, he didn't care to spare the rest of his subordinates. New York Fashion Week was drawing nearer by the day and Kurt wasn't taking any chances by allowing for small mistakes to slip by. His workplace stress, coupled with his random moments of remembering his night with Blaine, had Kurt ready to fire the next intern that dared to ask him an inane question about design samples.

When Kurt finally shut down his computer on Friday, he breathed a sigh of relief. Now he could finally take some time for himself, away from the idiots of his job until Monday. At least he had an evening of helping Mercedes get all dolled up for her date to distract him. Kurt just started to gather his things when his office door opened.

“Hey, are you almost ready?” Mercedes already had her coat on and her scarf bundled around her neck as she stepped into Kurt’s office.

“Yes, I was just packing up,” Kurt said as he packed the last few files into his briefcase.

“Good, because I'm kind of freaking out and I need you to talk me out of calling Sam and canceling.” Kurt studied the mild look of panic on Mercedes' face and took a deep breath.

He'd seen this look before and he could understand why Mercedes was so wound up. Due to their workloads, dates were few and far between. So, over the years, it was only natural that they fell out of touch with the rules of the game, so to speak. From Kurt's experience with Mercedes' nerves before college exams and even now, before presentations that could make or break a contract, he certainly had his work cut out for him.

“Well, then what are we waiting for? You have a date to not-cancel!”

---

A few hours and several near-cancellations later, Kurt reclined on the couch, waiting for Mercedes to emerge from the bathroom in her fourth, and hopefully final, outfit. The tell-tale sound of her heels making their way into the living room alerted Kurt of her presence. When he turned around and got a look at his best friend, he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his lips.

Mercedes wore a black cocktail dress made of a fine jersey that had a bit of a shimmer to it. It hugged her curves and had a belt that tied at the side of her waist. Since the dress was so simple, Mercedes chose to accessorize with a set of diamond earrings, a single stud necklace and a bracelet. Kurt picked up her black satin clutch and brought it over to her.

“You look amazing, hon,” Kurt said. He kissed Mercedes on the cheek and handed her the clutch.

“You really think so?” Kurt smiled at Mercedes’ obvious nervousness. He couldn’t blame her. It’s been quite a while since the last time either of them had a date, thanks to their jobs. He was almost as nervous as she was.

“Of course! He won’t be able to keep his eyes, and maybe even his hands, off of you.” Kurt wiggled his eyebrows and Mercedes swatted him playfully on the arm.

“Oh please, it will not be that kind of date.”

“It will be if he plays his cards right.”

Mercedes chuckled as she took her coat from Kurt. Though he was excited for his friend, he didn’t envy her braving the New York winter night in a dress and heels.

“All right,” Mercedes checked the wall clock. “He should be here any minute.” Right on cue, the doorbell rang and Mercedes looked at Kurt with slight panic written all over her face.

“Hey, hey, what’s this? Relax! You’ll be fine! You look gorgeous, okay? Don't freak out. It's just one date. You've negotiated multimillion dollar contracts within the cutthroat fashion industry dozens of times. I think you'll be able to handle one date with the guy who's doing maintenance work on your house.”

Mercedes exhaled slowly and nodded her head in agreement. “You're right, I'm just really nervous. It has been a while, you know.”

“And that's completely fine. Now, you go on out there and get your man. I'll stick to protocol by making myself scarce and waiting the normal ten minutes before leaving, okay? That way, if you change your mind and need to bail, I'll still be here with wine and ice cream waiting.”

Mercedes couldn't help but laugh. She wasn't surprised that Kurt remembered their safety plan from all the terrible dates they'd gone on in college.

“Duly noted,” Mercedes said as she quickly hugged her best friend. “Wish me luck!”

“He'll need it more than you do, hon. But good luck anyway.”

Mercedes took one more deep breath before walking into the entrance hall. True to his word, Kurt made way to the kitchen, far enough from the entrance hall to not be a concern, but close enough to hear whether or not things were going well.

Kurt could just make out Mercedes' voice responding to a much deeper murmur before he heard the door open and shut again.

After waiting twenty minutes at Mercedes' apartment, just to make absolutely sure that she wasn't going to bail on her date, Kurt he headed towards his own car. He didn’t expect to hear from Mercedes until the next day, so that she could provide him with a play-by-play of her evening.

Once Kurt was in his car, he sat there for a few moments. He had no idea what to do for the rest of the evening. Due to his tirade at the office, there was next to no work that he needed to do, since he was already so far ahead. Drumming his fingers against the steering will, Kurt ran down the short list of possibilities. He could go home, watch reruns of old sitcoms, and order takeout. Or maybe he could use the spare key to Mercedes’ apartment and reorganize her closet. He’d been trying to convince her to let him do it for months, but she refused to understand that patterns and solids needed to be in separate sections and then color-coded.

Kurt shook his head at his own ridiculousness. He was grasping at straws now. Besides, what if she comes back with her date? Do you really want to be there for that? There was that annoying voice again, shooting down any attempts that Kurt made to sort himself out. But it was right. Kurt finally started his engine and settled on going out on his own.

---

Fifteen minutes later, Kurt was seated at one of his favorite bars, sipping casually on his drink. He surveyed the crowd, taking in the multitude of patrons both young and not-so-young, dancing lewdly enough to question whether some of them were simply having sex on the dance floor. Draining the rest of his drink, Kurt turned back to the bar and signaled for another. He wasn’t out to get completely drunk tonight, but with the way his week had gone, he wasn’t completely against the idea either.

The bartender placed Kurt’s new drink in front of him and heard a voice speak up beside him.

“I’ve got his drinks for the rest of the night.” Kurt turned to owner of the voice with a bewildered look, before glancing back at the bartender.

“It’s all right, I’ve got them.”

“I insist,” by the tone of his voice, the man wasn’t about to give in any time soon. The bartender shrugged and went to attend to another patron down the bar.
Kurt studied the man beside him and noted that he wasn’t bad looking. He had dark hair, warm brown eyes and wore a navy blue blazer with a crisp white button-down shirt. He just might be the distraction that I’ve been looking for, Kurt mused.

“Thank you,” he started. “You didn’t have to do that you know.”

The man smiled. “Of course I didn’t. But I wanted to. Besides, I’m not the type to leave a gorgeous guy sitting alone at a bar, buying his own drinks.”

“Oh, really?” Kurt had to smile at the obvious come-on. But at least he was straightforward. “So what type are you, mister…”

“Collins. Brandon Collins, But I hope you don’t insist on calling me Mr. Collins. I’ll start looking around for my father.”

“All right, Brandon, duly noted. I’m Kurt.” Brandon took Kurt’s offered hand and held it for a touch longer than what Kurt would have expected.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kurt.” Brandon finally dropped Kurt’s hand and turned to his own drink. “So tell me, what’s a guy like you doing here alone on a Friday night? You don’t strike me as someone who would have a problem getting any guy he wanted.”

I could say the same for you, Kurt thought. But then again, maybe I can’t, since you’re clearly trying too hard right now.

Kurt smiled around his drink, taking a long sip before speaking. “Well, between work and trying to squeeze in time to eat and sleep, there isn’t much of a chance for a social life,” he answered honestly.

The conversation between Kurt and Brandon flowed smoothly. They drank, they laughed, Brandon showered Kurt with shameless compliments and Kurt continued to graciously accept and occasionally return them. All and all, Kurt was having a lovely evening and, for the first time in a week, he didn't have to forcefully banish thoughts of hazel eyes and curly hair from his mind. Instead, Kurt was much more interested in finding out what the dark eyes and straight hair in front of him would look like from a much lower position.

Kurt and his impromptu date clumsily stumbled into the bathroom, their lack of coordination aided by copious amounts of alcohol and arousal. Kurt collided with a solid body behind him and turned to see a slightly older man glaring disapprovingly at the pair of them. He brushed past them to wash his hands and stalked out of the restroom, muttering something about ‘horny kids who couldn’t keep it in their pants.’

“Looks like someone is jealous,” Kurt said as he locked the door.

Brandon, giggled and began planting sloppy kisses along Kurt’s jaw, while backing him into a stall. He turned them around so that Kurt was leaning against the door of the stall. Kurt let his head drop back against the door, enjoying the feeling of Brandon’s hands sneaking beneath his shirt, skimming across his torso. Kurt tangled his hands in Brandon’s hair, pulling him up for another messy kiss.

They moaned simultaneously at the contact. Kurt could taste the alcohol from the drinks he’d consumed earlier. Their breaths mingled as they broke apart, only to stare at each other for a moment before reacquainting themselves with each other’s lips. Kurt groaned as Brandon pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying it slightly before sucking on it to soothe the mild sting.

Brandon pulled back again and reattached his lips to Kurt’s neck. Through his alcohol and lust-induced haze, Kurt was sure that he’d have an obscene amount of hickeys in the morning.

That thought soon flew from his mind as Brandon moved down Kurt’s body while his hand steadily palmed the hardness in Kurt’s jeans.

“Ooh, someone’s a bit eager, aren’t they?” Brandon cooed in what Kurt assumed was supposed to be a sexy voice.

"Hm, well I hope you plan on doing something about it instead of making pointless conversation."

Brandon just grinned up at Kurt before unzipping Kurt's jeans and pushing aside his boxers. Kurt hissed at his cock's newfound freedom. Apparently it agreed from the way it twitched when Brandon's hot breath ghosted across the head.

All at once, Brandon drew Kurt's cock into his mouth, taking it as far as it would go, and using is spit-soaked hand to cover the rest. He sucked hard as he drew back so that only the head was between his lips.

Kurt once again let his head rest on the door behind him and closed his eyes, content to simply feel. However, once he did, Kurt couldn't help but think that the blowjob, though quite pleasurable, was missing something.

Kurt closed looked down at the dark head bobbing below him. No, this was all wrong. The hair was far too straight. The eyes staring back at him with a supposedly sultry look were much too dark. Kurt clamped his eyes shut, desperate to ward off the impending thought. Instead, he was greeted by the memory of Blaine in the same position, only he was much, much more desirable.

It was Blaine's face that replaced Brandon's. Blaine's eyes that challenged Kurt to keep a hold on the control that he so desperately clung to. Blaine's lips that curled into a smirk at Kurt's losing battle. Blaine's name that tumbled past Kurt's lips as he came hard down someone else's willing throat, eagerly swallowing around his cock.

Kurt sagged against the stall door, refusing to further embarrass himself by sliding to the germ-riddled floor beneath him. As he fought to catch his breath, he felt Brandon -not Blaine- slowly rise to his feet.

“Well, shit. I know I'm good but, I have to ask, who is Blaine?” Kurt looked at Brandon. He didn't look upset or even mildly annoyed; just slightly curious as he waited for Kurt's answer.

“No one,” Kurt dismissed before he turned to unlock the stall and walked to the row of sinks. God, I look like shit. Even from his reflection, Kurt could tell that he'd be nursing one hell of a hangover in the morning.

He quickly fastened his jeans and washed his hands, splashing cold water on his face. When Kurt looked up, he saw his companion staring at him expectantly.

“It didn't sound like 'no one' to me,” He started as he pressed his body behind Kurt. Honestly, Kurt was in no mood to deal with this guy. He just wanted to get home and pass out on his always welcoming bed. Unfortunately, from the hardness that was pressed against the curve of Kurt's ass, his no-longer-welcome companion had other plans.

“By the end of the night, you'll be screaming my name instead.” Kurt almost snorted at his pathetic attempt to sound sexy. Even through is current drunken state, Kurt could tell that Brandon's looks did nothing to make up for his sleazy personality.

“Not likely,” Kurt muttered as he sidestepped the less than subtle shallow thrusts from the hips behind him.

“What? So you're just going to leave?”

Kurt was already unlocking the bathroom door, well aware of the angry yelling on the other side, before he turned around.

“It certainly seems that way doesn't it?” He nodded to the obvious bulge in his pants. “You might want to take care of that.” Kurt then opened the door to reveal a line of irate men glaring at him.

“Sorry boys, we must have lost track of time. It's all yours now.” Kurt ducked between the men, ignoring the scathing looks tossed his way.

“He needed fresh air. After downing the last of his now extremely watered down drink and grabbing his belongings from the coat room, Kurt stepped out into the bitter night air. His breath clouded in small puffs in front of him as he took a deep breath, grateful for the chill of the crisp breeze across his overheated skin.

I can't drive home like this, Kurt thought. I might as well take the train and get my car in the morning. Kurt bundled his scarf a little tighter around his neck and bowed his head agains the unforgiving wind.

Ten minutes and several dodged drunken groups later, Kurt found himself on a familiar street, two blocks from the train station. A quick look around made Kurt drop his head in defeat. This could not be happening. He couldn't possibly be in the same place that he was just a week ago, before all of this nonsense started.

Kurt lifted his head again and stared at the building across the street. The reason for his distraction and absurdly short temper during the past week was in that building. The reason for the nights that he spent waking up half hard to fading images of eyes that said everything was behind that door. The very door that Kurt was opening before he had the chance to register that he was walking across the street in the first place. Heaving a sigh of resignation, Kurt continued into the unfortunately familiar building.

I suppose it couldn't hurt to pay him another visit. Maybe I just need to get him out of my system to get my life back under control. That was Kurt's rationalization for his increasing pattern of bad decision-making and he was sticking to it, thank you very much.