It Takes Three
Author's Note: This is a sequel to Dreaming but it can be read alone.
Chapter 1: Alone Again
Quinn juggled the books in her arms and struggled with the key. "Damn door!" She turned the key and bumped the door with her hip. "Hah! Open Sesame." The ex-cheerleader closed the door behind her, and slid the deadbolt home. There was no such thing as too paranoid in New York. She dropped her keys and books on the hall table, pulled her messenger bag over her head and started down the narrow hallway to her room.
TV chatter alerted the blonde to the fact that her roommate was home. She stopped in the doorway to their rather cluttered living room. "Hey, Kurt. How did your….Woh! Since when do you drink in the middle of the day?" Kurt slumped in the middle of the couch, legs stretched out on the coffee table, a glass of what looked like scotch in his hand. Quinn dropped her messenger bag on the floor and sat on the arm of the couch. "Since when do you drink at all?"
Kurt didn't take his eyes off the TV screen. He waved his glass in the air, sloshing the liquid around carelessly. "Since my boyfriend dumped me."
"Shit!" Quinn slid off the arm of the couch, down onto the cushion beside Kurt. "What happened?"
Kurt took a sip of his drink. "Apparently, although I'm kinda cute, and I give great head… " The design student glanced at his roommate, pain swimming in his eyes. "… I'm just not any fun."
"He said that?" Quinn's voice simmered with rage. No one hurt her baby.
Kurt smiled sadly, and stared into his glass. "Oh, yeah, he said that and quite a bit more." Kurt chugged the rest of the liquor in his glass. "Because I'm so boring, he's been cheating on me for the last month."
"What? He actually said that's it's your fault he cheated on you?"
Kurt laughed and refilled his glass. "Pretty much."
"What a cunt!" Quinn's vocabulary had altered significantly since high school. Four years at UCLA and one term studying law at NYU will do that to a girl. "You know he's trying to shift the blame onto you so that he doesn't have to admit what a douche bag he is, right? You don't actually believe anything that dick said, do you?"
Kurt's hand trembled as he put his glass down. "Well, I have been spending a lot of time on my classes at Parsons…"
"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, do not make me smack you." Quinn took Kurt's hands and made him look at her. "There is nothing wrong with you. You are amazing. You are beautiful. You are talented. You are going to graduate at the top of your class, and your designs will take Paris and Milan by storm. You will be the next Tom Ford, and that little shit will be saying he knew you when."
Kurt tucked a lock of Quinn's hair behind her ear. "You wouldn't be at all biased, would you?"
Quinn pulled Kurt into her arms, and settled his head on her shoulder. She rubbed his back with gentle strokes. "Hell, yes, I'm biased! And I'm right! That asshole doesn't deserve you." The blonde stood up, pulling her roommate with her. "O.K. This is what we're doing. We're going out to eat something greasy and fattening to soak up the liquor you've been guzzling, and then we're going dancing."
Kurt stepped around his friend. "No thanks, Quinn. I can't go out. I'm going to my room."
Quinn wrapped an arm around his waist and steered him towards the front door. "Tomorrow you can stay home and wallow in misery. Tonight we're going out." Quinn pushed Kurt out the door and locked it behind them, muttering to herself. "Kinda cute! Fucking moron!"
Quinn nursed a coke and watched Kurt on the dance floor. Eyes closed, he moved as if the music was coming from somewhere inside his soul. At 11:30 PM, the dance floor was packed. Quinn wasn't the only one watching Kurt. The Parsons student's lithe body was a shimmering beacon, drawing one man after another to his side. Kurt shared the music with each of them, and then slid away and continued alone. One man was more persistent than the others. He followed Kurt as he moved away and tried again.
Quinn sipped her drink. Come on, Kurt, pick one. It was getting late and she had an early class tomorrow. Mr. Persistent danced almost on top of Kurt; barely a breath between their bodies. He cupped Kurt's hip, and pulled him back against his chest. Quinn watched, hoping that Kurt wouldn't pull away from this one. The two men danced as one body. Kurt turned, locked his arms around the other man's neck, and smiled.
Thank God! Quinn took out her phone and texted her roommate. Kurt couldn't hear the ringtone, it was lost in the blare of the music, but he felt the vibration and pulled the phone from his pocket. One arm still around Mr. Persistent's neck, Kurt scanned the text. I'm leaving. Have fun! Kurt looked over to Quinn, raised the hand holding his phone, and waved.
The deadbolt slid home with the sound of a mini gunshot in the silent apartment. Quinn's eyes opened and she smiled as she heard Kurt say 'Shhhh!' to the door. The numbers on the digital clock by her bed read 3:14 AM. Quinn rolled onto her side, smiling as she smushed her pillow. Kinda cute, my ass!
