Kurt stood hidden by the long wall of lockers, clutching his bag to his chest and slowly daring to take a peek around the corner. He caught sight of Quinn and Puck having yet another argument. Quinn was waving around a piece of paper, saying something about how she didn't have enough money to pay yet another bill. She was pointing out that she couldn't ask her parents, and she wouldn't dare ask Mercedes parents for financial assistance.

"It's bad enough that I can't pay them rent! They are buying my food, Mrs. Jones has even been buying me prenatal vitamins," Quinn spoke loud enough for Kurt to hear, "you know how much money they are spending on your baby? A lot, Puck, so maybe you should start chipping in, maybe pay for a doctor's visit."

Puck mumbled something Kurt couldn't quite make out and Quinn's eyes lit up with rage. She slapped the bill against his chest and shouted angrily, "I don't know, you figure it out!"

Kurt retreated behind the wall as Quinn came storming around the corner. She was obviously too upset and hormonal to notice their little eavesdropper. Kurt turned to see Puck scanning the piece of paper hopelessly. He sighed and angrily threw it in his locker. Kurt took his opportunity to swoop in and approach Puck with a little business endeavor.

When Coach Sylvester made him question his budding sexuality, Kurt had been reassured that he was definitely gay, but it left a lingering inquiry on his lips. His little Britney experiment left him aching for the feel of another boy's lips on his. He wanted to know what boy's lips were like, how they kissed.

Finally, about three weeks ago, while his dad was working a late night, he went into the nearest city with a gay bar. He got into the bar with ease, mostly because of his charm and excellent fashion. It was that night he first kissed another guy. It was that night he became addicted to kissing, touching, or any kind of sexually fueled physical contact.

The rush of lust made him feel high, like nothing he'd ever felt before. He didn't know why he felt that soaring feeling, but he knew it was something he couldn't live without. He tried to get back to the bar as much as he could, either while his dad was at work or by lying and saying he was going to a friend's house. But a recent run-in with the cops led him to decide that sneaking out to a bar was far too dangerous. He decided he'd have to go about getting his fix some other way, starting with Plan A.

"Noah," Kurt came to stand in front of Puck's open locker, "I realize this confrontation is rare, but a little birdy told me you were in need of some monetary aid. I believe I can be of assistance."

"I'm really not in the mood for your vocabulary right now, Hummel." Puck slammed his locker shut. "What do you want?"

Kurt sighed calmly. "Fine, if you don't want some quick cash, that's fine by me."

Kurt started to walk away, knowing full well he would win this battle. A mischievous smile grew over his face when he heard Puck sigh, "Okay what is it?"

"I have a proposition for you," Kurt said, turning on his heel. He observed the multitudes of other kids in the hallway getting ready to go home. "Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere more…private. Would you care to take a walk?"

Puck rolled his eyes, but the money hungry bastard inside of him nodded and followed Kurt out the main entrance of the school. Kurt led him down the front steps of the school and across the street to a park. Kurt didn't begin talking until he was sure they wouldn't be heard. He looked around carefully then turned to Puck.

"Okay, basically it would work like this: I pay you twenty dollars for fifteen minutes, fifty dollars for thirty, a hundred twenty five dollars for an hour, or two hundred fifty dollars for two hours. The longer you work the more you get paid."

"Wait, what is the work?" Puck asked suspiciously. He was almost certain he'd do anything for that type of money, but it seemed too good to be true.

"You'd come over to my house, or maybe another preset location, and," Kurt closed his eyes, "make out with me."

"Hell no! I'm out of here," Puck said turning his back on Kurt.

"Wait, don't you want to be able to pay Quinn's bills? Don't you want her to be happy?" Kurt asked loudly. Puck stopped in his tracks and Kurt cooed, "Don't you want her to love you?"

Puck's shoulders tightened. "I'm not gay."

"You don't have to be. Pretend I'm a girl, I don't care as long as you…work," Kurt pleaded, his longing for a good make out session starting to rear its ugly head.

"This seems a little slutty for someone like you," Puck shot Kurt down with an easy dismissal.

"What, I can't have feelings? I can't have needs?" Kurt breathed out angrily. "I'm not any different from any of the other sex obsessed girls or boys at that school, except that I don't have the convenience of hooking up with anyone I want. I'm tired of being left out."

Puck dug his toe into the grass. It really wasn't fair to argue against what Kurt was saying. "But paying someone?"

"Do you have any better options?" Kurt asked rhetorically. He really just wanted this argument to go either way. If he was wasting his time, he would rather be wasting it elsewhere.

"Don't they have like hookers or something you could pay?" Puck wrinkled his nose at the thought. Like Kurt hadn't already thought about that.

"Ew, Noah, that's disgusting," Kurt discarded the idea without much explanation. He had thought about hiring a 'professional', but he couldn't bring himself to do it. At least if he tried to work something out with Puck, it'd be someone he knew, which would be a big step up from strangers in a bar. "Anyways, why are you trying to poke holes in this? I'm willingly trying to give you an outrageous amount of money for something you enjoy doing!"

"With girls. Girls!" Puck countered, throwing Kurt's biggest obstacle right back in his face.

Kurt scowled and raised his voice as well, "Yea I know, that's all anyone wants is girls! Well girls are expensive, aren't they? How's pool cleaning in February working out for you? How's minimum wage at Sheets-N-Things treating you? I guess you're just rolling in money, aren't you?"

Puck sighed in contempt, knowing that Kurt was right about his money situation. Puck walked back to Kurt, towering over him treacherously. "No one can know about this. No one."

Kurt pushed him back daintily. "Please, it's just as embarrassing for me as it is for you, if not more so!"

"How could it be more embarrassing for you?" Puck asked disbelievingly.

Kurt shook his head. "I'm so desperate I'm paying someone to make out with me. Do you know how pathetic and loser-ish that is?"

"Good point," Puck admitted. The noise of children screaming on the playground disrupted their conversation. Puck looked at them, trying to remember a time when he was innocent and pure, not a baby daddy selling himself out for money. "Is this even legal?"

"Yes, as long as I'm not paying you for s-sex." Kurt's cheeks turned a light pink as he stumbled over the word. He wasn't actually sure if what they were doing was legal, but he wasn't bothered enough to find out. Besides, he was still saving his virginity for someone who he really loved and who really loved him. He looked up at Puck. "So do we have a deal?"

Puck sighed, contemplating the enormity of this agreement. "No one will know?"

"Not a soul." Kurt motioned between the both of them. "Strictly between the two of us."

Puck nodded and looked at the children on the playground once again. A little girl fell in the sand and her dad was coming to comfort her. He winced with guilt at the sight. "Why choose me, Kurt?"

"I needed a boy that was desperate enough, who needed the money bad enough, and I figured it would be easy for you to pretend I was someone else." Kurt followed Puck's gaze to the little girl and her father. "Do you want her to keep the baby?"

"I need five hundred dollars." Puck avoided the question, asking a different question instead, "How fast could I get it?"

Kurt thought about his schedule. "Come over tonight and tomorrow and you'll be able to pay her Friday morning."

Puck cringed. Was he really this desperate? "What time?"

Kurt tapped his bedazzled iPhone four times, humming to himself. "How about four? That gives you a little time to go home, mentally prepare and stuff, then swing by my house. Four to six good for you?"

"I guess," Puck shrugged passively. It wasn't like he had any other choice in the matter. He just wanted to see the surprise on Quinn's face when he handed her five hundred dollars Friday morning.

"Excellent, here's my address." Kurt pulled a pre-made business card with his name, phone number, and home address printed in tiny elegant script. He smiled a quick innocent smile. "I'll see you at four."

Kurt turned and walked back towards the school, leaving Puck to wallow in his new all time low. He'd never done something this degrading for a girl, especially a girl like Quinn, who probably didn't even care about him.

No, of course she cares; he thought to himself, she has to care. He wouldn't be putting his sexuality, self-esteem, and pride on the line if he knew she didn't care. He started his trek home, debating if he could do this. He looked up at the cold sky and watched the day darken as he took the shortcut through some backyards to get back to his home. When he finally reached his house, he thought up a lie before turning the handle.

He lowered his head as he entered his home. "Mom, Coach scheduled extra football practices for today and tomorrow from four to six."

His mom appeared from the kitchen with a bowl of creamy orange goo. "Isn't football season over?"

"Baseball. I meant…baseball." Puck stumbled on a good cover. He wasn't always the best at thinking on his feet. His mother rolled her eyes and smirked at him. He sighed, "Anyways, I was hoping I could maybe use the car…please?"

"Wow that may have been the first time I've ever heard you say please!" his mother said jokingly. He faked a smile for her sake. She raised an eyebrow. "From four to six?"

"Yes ma'am," he chimed politely. He wasn't always the best suck up either.

His mom nodded. "Fine, you take the car. But try to get home for dinner."

She raised the bowl of orange goo enticingly. Puck tried to find the appeal in the putrid mush. "Looks great mom. Be back at six-ish."

He grabbed the keys off the counter, kissed his mother on the cheek, and grabbed his secondhand baseball gear. If he was going to lie, he was going to make it convincing. He grabbed his baseball gear off a shelf, narrowly avoiding a flying screwdriver. He opened the car door and threw his bag into the passenger seat. He climbed in, checked the dashboard clock and rested his forehead on the steering wheel.

He peeled his forehead from the wheel and turned his gaze again to the skies. There was a remarkable stillness about the February sky that soothed at least some of his nerves. It calmed him enough to actually start the car and set off to find Kurt's house.

When he finally did arrive in front of the large grey house, the digital clock read 3:56. He killed the engine and prayed for mercy from whatever holy being was torturing him. He almost thought about turning the car back on and getting the hell away from there, but Kurt tapping on the window interrupted his thoughts.

Puck opened the car door. "Hey Kurt."

"I thought I saw you drive up," Kurt said cheerily. "Come on in."

Puck froze. Had Kurt been waiting for him, watching for his arrival? He swallowed. "Um, you saw me?"

Kurt pointed up at the roof. "Camera. So we can catch football players who nail our lawn furniture to our roof."

Puck looked up and saw a ball attached to the gutter sweep the lawn and rest on him, zooming in and zooming out again. He looked away with a hint of guilt in the back of his mind.

He climbed the cement stairs to the large oak doors that Kurt pushed open. Puck saw that this wasn't like the sixty or seventy year old houses that made up his neighborhood. This house had to be twenty years old, tops.

The layout was contemporary and fresh, not dingy and outdated like most of the houses he'd been in. On the left, he could peek into what he assumed was a living room, judging by the very impressive television hanging on the wall. Kurt walked straight ahead through a short hallway. At the end of the hallway, Puck could see a black and silver modern kitchen. But they didn't reach the end of the hall. Instead, Kurt turned to a door and pushed it open, revealing the house's dark basement. Kurt took two steps and flipped a light switch. Lights sputtered on in the room and Kurt smiled. "Go ahead, I'll be right there. Just want to lock the door."

Puck stepped passed Kurt down the staircase into the well-lit basement. It was definitely what Puck would have thought Kurt's room would look like, if he had ever thought about the matter. Crisp white everything, clean, pure and innocent. Almost like Kurt, if you took away the innocence and the purity.

He felt a hand slide across his back as Kurt passed behind him to the stereo. He clicked play and Lady Gaga's unmistakable voice sunk into the room. Kurt moved to the bed, sitting on the fluffy white duvet and patting the spot next to him. "Come on, nothing to be afraid of."

Puck made his way to the bed slowly. With each step he could hear his classmates taunting him, his teammates beating him up, Quinn…oh god Quinn. He sat next to Kurt. Kurt leaned in close, but Puck stood up. "I can't. I thought I could, but I can't."

Kurt sighed. "Sit back down Noah."

Puck looked at him uncomfortably. He opened his mouth to protest, but Kurt gave him a compassionate stare. "No, seriously Noah, sit down. I want to talk to you."

"I'm sorry; I'm not quite ready to be queer yet," Puck snapped.

Kurt smiled stayed plastered on his face. "I understand that this is uncomfortable for you. But two hundred fifty dollars is a lot of money. Imagine all the prenatal vitamins you could buy."

Puck eyed Kurt, wondering if somehow he'd heard their conversation in the hall. He probably did, considering Quinn pretty much announced it. Puck frowned. "I just can't."

"Of course you can. Here," Kurt patted the spot next to him. Puck gave him a dirty look. Kurt rolled his eyes. "What are you afraid of?"

"Nothing," Puck barked. He smirked. "Puckasaurus isn't afraid of anything or anybody, especially not Kurt Hummel."

Kurt crossed his legs and rested his folded hands on his knees. "Then sit."

Puck scowled, admitting defeat by resuming his spot next to Kurt. Kurt repositioned himself so he was directly in front of Puck. "I want you to try something for me. Close your eyes."

Puck looked at Kurt, who nodded reassurance. Puck closed his eyes as Kurt spoke," Okay now picture Quinn. Picture Quinn the most beautiful you've ever seen her."

To Puck's surprise, he didn't think of her in her Cheerios uniform or even naked the night they had sex. Instead, he pictured her with her hair down in a yellow sundress, the one she wore often to cover the noticeable bump. He pictured her smiling and laughing in the choir room with all their friends. Kurt's soft voice corrected, "Think of her and only her."

The other people in the choir room faded away, and she was left smiling and laughing at him. Puck smiled at the image in his head. Suddenly, he felt two hands push him back slowly until he was lying flat on the bed. Quinn was coming closer now, approaching him carelessly. Then he felt smooth, cherry Chapstick flavored lips on his. They were soft, succulent, and sensual, colliding expertly with Puck's. These lips were knowledgeable and savory, lust-filled things, hungry for affection.

But they weren't Quinn's. He opened his eyes briefly to see Kurt's face against his. He quickly shut his eyes, summoning a visual of Quinn kissing him. Surprisingly, the image came easy to him. She was with him, on his bed, looming over him like an angel sent from God. Her blonde locks fell carelessly around her flawless face and she was glowing with feminine beauty. Her body was trembling above his and he reached out to steady her. He put his hands on her hips and kissed her back.

Kurt was shocked at Puck's sudden participation; he was already kissing back and putting his hands on Kurt's hips. It was just the high he'd been looking for and he would have it for another two hours. He put one of his hands beside Puck's head to hold himself up, the other trailed up and down Puck's chest mischievously. He dragged his well-manicured claws over Puck's torso, applying pressure in all the right places.

Puck elicited a moan that drove Kurt up the wall. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before, an excitement and thrill that was well worth the money. And it didn't even matter that Puck had to imagine he was Quinn, because Kurt was imagining straddling Finn and kissing him like no tomorrow.

For the next two hours it was a battle of imagination, the vivid imagery playing out differently in each of their minds. Kurt was so preoccupied with kissing and touching his imaginary Finn, he almost didn't hear his alarm sound. The trilling of his phone finally pierced Kurt's ears. He rolled over to the unoccupied side of the bed and silenced the phone's shrill cries before returning it to his bedside table.

They both lay with their eyes closed while trying to catch their breath. Slowly, they both opened their eyes and looked at each other. Puck spoke first, breathing out, "Well…then."

Kurt turned to face him, "Impressed?"

Puck shuddered. Albeit he was kind of impressed, he would never dare admit it. "Sick. Ech, gross."

"Don't hate me 'cause you ain't me," Kurt smiled, quoting his best friend Mercedes.

Puck laughed doubtfully. "Me? Want to be you? Ha! Why would I want to be you? So I could pay people to make out with me."

Kurt smirked. He sat up and smoothed down his shirt. "Jealous."

Puck sat up and walked away from the bed. Kurt hummed as he got up and went to his vanity, pulling out his glitter pink makeup box. Just under the cover was a little stash of his money, at least the money that wasn't in the bank or invested in thriving stocks. He pulled out two hundred fifty dollars. "Just for the record, I move my cash box pretty much every hour, so it'd be wise not to break into my house and try to steal my money."

He walked back over and counted the bills in front of Puck. "Fifty, hundred, one fifty, two hundred, two fifty."

He slapped the money into Puck's eager hand. Kurt folded his arms. "I've got to admit, I was very impressed; you did pretty well today."

"Pretty well?" Puck raised an eyebrow. "I think maybe you meant the best you ever had."

Kurt shrugged,."More or less. Maybe in the top five…or ten…maybe."

Puck looked at him incredulously, but Kurt just shrugged again. Instead of entertaining Puck's ego, Kurt started to walk up the stairs, Puck taking the hint it was time to go. They arrived at the front door and Kurt smiled. "I guess I'll see you at school tomorrow and then after school? Cool, keep up the good work Noah."

Kurt winked and laughed in spite of himself. Puck nodded, uncomfortably reaching for the door. "Yea see you later."

Kurt closed the door behind Puck then staggered to the living room where he collapsed on the couch. His heart was beating furiously and his endorphins were creating a fog in his head. He heard the door open and sat up, peeking over the couch. His dad came through the door, smiling like his favorite baseball team had won the Super Bowl.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Dad?"

"Kurt!" His dad came over and put a hand on his shoulder. "How you doing, kid? Hey, I invited Finn and his mom over for dinner, would you mind cooking?"

Another round of endorphins shot through Kurt's system and he couldn't breathe. Finn would be in his house for the fourth time in three weeks. He nodded enthusiastically and his dad laughed. "Great. Okay they'll be here at eight. By the way, who was that person leaving our driveway just now?"

Kurt managed to breath out, "Project partner."

"Oh," his dad said with little concern in his voice. "Well I'm going to go shower and change and stuff."

"Okay," Kurt muttered. He swung his legs off the couch, hoping they didn't give way when he stood up. Luckily, they held him up enough to get him to the kitchen. A two hour make out session and a visit from Finn all in one day was like Kurt's Disneyland. It left him dizzy and ecstatic and exhausted.

Kurt caught his reflection in a shiny plate he pulled from the cupboard. He made a mental note to cleanse, exfoliate, and moisturize his face, not to mention change his clothes. After all, he had to dress to impress. He winked at his reflection and got to cooking.