A/n: I edited this chapter for continuity reasons, I've storyboarded their lives and need to fix some stuff that wouldn't match up later; hopefully I got it all.

this is not the 'Shelter from the Storm' reboot but it is PucKurtofsky. It's an AU like all my work; it gets really angsty and I'm trying my hand at smut for public consumption. This is totally not a one shot and this love triangle is going places, very dirty places but places none the less.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, Scandal or any other fandom I may reference in my writing.

Kurt let out a shaky breath; he cleared his mind of all prior thoughts and entered the hospital room. He looked at the large figure that lay in the bed; he couldn't believe that he was seeing him again when he had come so close to giving up all hope. Kurt fell into the seat next to the bed.

"David," The man looked at him for a moment before turning his back, Kurt didn't know whether to laugh or cry; he chose instead to be angry, "David Alexander Roderick Karofsky! You have some nerve turning your back on me! You're the one who disappeared for three years, if anyone has the right to be angry it is me."

"How'd you find me?" a defeated voice asked without allowing him the joy of gazing on his husband's handsome face.

"How did I find you? It wasn't easy but I've known where you are for months and I've waited for you to reach out," Kurt levelled his breath and calmed himself down, "I asked my uncle to call in a military favour. David, we disagree over something so trivial and you quit your job and enlist in the army? What were you thinking?"

"It was not trivial," the man he once knew was shining through by the passion, "Don't you dare make me seem like a sulking child when you know very well that this was bigger than that!"

"No matter how big," Kurt shook his head, he couldn't believe that in the short time they had been back together they had fallen into old habits, "You could have told me you were leaving me, I had to find out from your staff that you had quit your job. You were in the best trauma surgery programmes in the world and you threw it away; worse, you threw me and our marriage away."

Kurt stood up briskly; he looked down at the man he loved for a moment before turning to leave.

"Kurt," the voice was strained and small, he stopped dead in his tracks, "I still love you, do you still love me."

"I love you wholly," Kurt was silent for a moment, "I'm just not sure I can be in love with you right now."

~0~

Kurt stood entered the crowded foyer; he avoided bumping into any of the people who were hard at work, "Hi, I'm supposed starting here today, Where should I wait for instruction?"

"Hi, Laura Kingston," the receptionist extended her hand with a friendly smile.

"Sorry," Kurt put his bag down on her desk, "Kurt, Kurt Hummel."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr Hummel," her smile remained sweet, "Welcome to Anderson, Robertson and Zuckerman; the first year associates are having a mixer in the boardroom. The boardroom is down the hall, last door to your left."

"Thank you Laura," Kurt smiled but it didn't reach his eyes, his mind was still on his hospital visit earlier this morning. He pushed all thoughts that weren't related to his work as a lawyer aside and got himself I the zone to psych out his opposition, only half of them would be retained for a second year and he wasn't going to be out in the cold.

Kurt entered the subdued room; the first thing he noticed was that the air-conditioning was turned up to high for the fall; the second was all the fresh faces that were just out of law school, it made him feel anxious about his additional qualification. He gravitated toward the coffee bar and prepared himself a chai latte; he was keeping to himself when a young man with too much gel in his hair approached him.

"Hi," he smirked and wagged an oversized eyebrow at Kurt, "I'm Blaine Anderson, it's nice to meet you, I went to Stanford."

Kurt looked down at the shorter boy for second, "Kurt Hummel, you're fringing on sexual harassment but that's just the legal opinion of a PhD."

The boy's face grew taught with rage, "Do you know who I am?" Kurt rolled his eyes to himself, "I'm Blaine Anderson!"

Kurt chuckled to himself, "We've established that and it failed to strike fear into anyone's heart."

"My father is a named partner," Blaine forced a laugh but Kurt kept his face uniform, "You're a joke, you frigid bitch."

"Go play with the rest of the kids," Kurt shooed the temperamental egocentric dweeb off.

"I guess I'm not the only old soul," a gravely baritone came from behind Kurt, startling the lithe lawyer, "I didn't mean to startle you."

"So your intention was just to insult me?" Kurt looked expectantly at the handsome gentleman and got the idea that he wasn't going to get on well with any of his colleagues.

"I'm not sure how I insult-" the man face palmed when the reality of what he'd said, "I don't mean you're old, not that you're a spring chicken."

"I'm only twenty-eight," Kurt exclaimed in shock.

"Hey," the man held his hands up in surrender, "I'm not judging, I'm thirty. Noah."

"Kurt," he smiled politely as he shook the extended hand, "I'm sorry about that, I'm just testy about all these kids in their lower twenties and their fresh attitudes."

"What held you up?" Kurt didn't quite understand the question and his facial expression was telling, "Money or Booze?"

"Oh, neither," Kurt smiled at the bleak story that reminded him of David, "I graduated and passed my boards on time but I went ahead and took advantage of my ripe mind and registered for my PhD full time, pilot class."

"Oh wow," Noah chuckled, "That makes my story seem stupid, for me it was both. I drank in high school instead of working for grants. Then I decided to work my way around the world, I got stuck in Florence for a little longer than I anticipated and started college then I was twenty-three."

"You are the only other human being here," Kurt exclaimed much to Noah's surprise, "Look at them, still wet behind the ears. We can do what old people do together."

"We'll demand prune juice and tell stories about the good old days," Kurt laughed for the first time since David left him, "So where'd you go to school?"

"I did all of my degrees at Yale," Kurt had never realised how pretentiously vanilla he sounded when he said that, "Oh god, I sound like an Ivy League snob. Where did you go to school?"

"I did undergrad at Penn State and Postgrad at Columbia." He said between fits of laughter, "After four years it was time to go home."

"A New Yorker? I think I might just hold onto you." Kurt did his best impression but it was dismal failure, "I'm a Southern Belle."

"You don't even sound southern," Noah gave Kurt a scrutinous look, "Where in the south?"

"Texas," Kurt loved to watch the flabbergasted looks on people's faces when he revealed this minor detail, "but I do admit I went to boarding school here in DC."

"Could you please take your seats," Mr Anderson spoke, Kurt recognised the silver fox from his interview; there was a definite resemblance between the man and his son; Kurt took a seat in the back near the door beside Noah. "Good morning and welcome to your first day at the finest law firm in Washington DC. I'm Gregory Anderson and my name is on the building so I get to welcome you all. I also get the privilege of telling you that you were selected from droves of equally qualified applicants but we chose you; don't let us down or we will replace you at the drop of a hat."

"Francine Zuckerman and I think what Greg is trying to say," a round woman with greying blond hair took the floor, her voice was raspy from excessive smoking, "Is that at this firm we expect the very best at all times and have no time for slackers. We made more than two billion dollars last year and I only want to see that growing."

"Now," Mr Anderson smiled broadly, "for the only fun you're ever going to have at work; Ms Robertson came out of retirement and is in a chopper on the roof and the first four of you up there get to join her on your first case, the rest of you will review and archive old depositions. Go."

Kurt was glad he hadn't gotten too comfortable in his seat because he felt himself being yanked out the boardroom; he saw it was Noah who was leading him toward the stairwell.

"Let's just say you owe me one," Kurt's mind kicked into gear and he started shredding the stairs, taking them two at a time as he and Noah raced for the prize. Kurt was simultaneously thanking his husband for pushing him to be more active back in their varsity days and hoping to a god he didn't believe in that the elevator took its own time.

"I owe you so big!" Kurt said when they reached the roof after climbing five flights of stairs; the frigid New York air whipped them senseless. Kurt covered his ears and tried to remain composed as the helicopter blades whirled above his head, Kurt who had become more accustomed to the flashier thing in his lifetime led Noah to the chopper; they were each handed headsets.

"Good Morning Ms Robertson," Kurt smiled excitedly because they were the first ones there. He recognised her immediately, she was the First Lady of California; Melody Katherine Robertson-Grant, "I'm Kurt Hummel."

"Noah Puckerman," they shook hands with their superior.

"Hummel?" Kurt had stars in his eyes, he was meeting a legal legend and somebody whom he had admired for so long; he couldn't believe his luck, he knew she was affiliated with the law firm when he'd interviewed here but he had never thought he'd get to meet the woman. He dreaded the question that would follow, "Like Governor Albert Hummel?"

"That would be my father," Kurt could see Noah's jaw drop.

"That's one hell of a name to live up to," she said with a chuckle, "Burt is known for his no nonsense attitude as a high ranking engineer of one of America's biggest car makers, a businessman and now I get to see how it translates to his parenting; have you ever considered going by something else to get out of his shadow."

"I went by my mother's surname for like a month before resigning to the lesser of two evils," They were joined by two females who had their heels in their hands.

"Your mother was a notoriously brutal business woman in her time," she turned to the pilot and signalled for take-off.

"Rachel Berry," the brunette said with a broad smile, "It's a pleasure to meet you Ms Robertson."

"Quinn Fabray," the pretty blond said simply.

"Okay, call me Mellie because if I hear Ms Robertson one more time I will haemorrhage and die," She said with a smile that Kurt wasn't sure was a welcome or warning sign, "We're going to Baltimore to see a very important client, Benji Porter."

"The mob boss?" Noah asked, his eyes the size of saucers.

"Don't mention that," She said in a deadly serious tone, "We only represent his legitimate business interests and as such we are both blind and impartial to his other dealings. He's being sued by his son again, we got the case dismissed the last time and we're going to do all that we can to ensure that this doesn't see the inside of a court room."

"Is this the same son?" Noah asked while Kurt took mental note of what was being said.

"No this time it's his youngest son who is contesting his divorce," She spoke clinically, "This would be Mr Porter's sixth divorce in four wives."

Kurt was confused, "He married and divorced some of his wives more than once?"

"His first wife and mother of his children was his first, third and sixth wife," Kurt shot Noah a bewildered look at the calibre of knowledge the man possessed on a client he didn't know they had, "I read."

After they landed on the large estate Kurt took a moment to straighten his hair; as they walked up to the front door Kurt was wreaked by nerves but chose to keep his composure and ride the nerves out.

"So your dad's a governor?" Noah whispered the question in Kurt's ear, "Why aren't you announcing that from the rooftops like that git from this morning? It would have put him in his place."

"I don't usually bring it up," Kurt clutched his bag closer, "I don't usually say much about my family, in my interview they asked what my parents did for a living and I told them my father was a mechanic and small business owner and my mother was dead."

"You lied?" Noah was shocked.

"No, my father is a mechanic...al engineer and small franchise business owner," Kurt took a deep breath, he hated having to explain the intricacies of his life, "he just also happens to be governor. My mother is dead; the fact that she chaired several major corporate boards and was air to half of a billion dollar energy dynasty doesn't change that."

"That must make life easier," Noah's eyes widened when what he'd said struck him, "Not the mother thing, sorry about that, but the whole old money thing; you got to concentrate on your studies, my mom's a single school teacher so I was working two jobs while I was in school."

Kurt gave it a moment's thought, "It's hard in a different way; this was the only law firm that gave me an interview. Most either hired or dismissed me based on my name and the repercussions that came with my last name; I got this interview because of a typo on my résumé, autocorrect accidently misspelled my name when I was updating it. I was Valedictorian four times; I graduated summa cum laude from law school and magna cum laude from my PhD! My name was important than that."

"That sucks," Noah gave him a pat on the back, "If it's any consolidation, interviews suck; I had to shave Mohawk after the first two."

"Good morning and welcome to the Porter House," a sophisticated elderly man said in the dreariest voice Kurt had ever heard, "Ms Robertson, the lord of the manor has been expecting you. Please come in, may I take your coats and hats."

Kurt handed the man his pea coat. He listened to the rhythm created by clack of heel and the click of hard sole shoes on the marble floors. They were seated in what appeared to be the formal dining room; the crystal chandelier was excessively large but not out of place in the elaborate classic décor that looked to be inspired a hybrid of Downton Abby meets Jerseylicious; two very powerful design aesthetics that were never meant to meet.

A young boy of about age twelve appeared and took the seat at the head of the large table; he was dressed in a very preppy fashion and carried himself with an air of sophistication that would have made him at home at many of the summer events Kurt had found himself at in his lifetime which made him out of place in the tackily decorated manor. At the other end of the room a tall athletic man entered in a classic black suit, too much gel in his hair, a gold trimmed walking stick he didn't need and a thick cloud of expensive cologne; Kurt could deduce that this was Benji Porter, he also understood why he'd been married six times because outside of the excessive wealth Benji Porter was a fine male specimen.

"Good morning Melody, London and other new friends," he gave Ms Robertson a kiss on each cheek before blowing one across the room to the young boy who appeared to be enraged by the action, "I see you listened to me well, I want only the best representation for my littlest one when we go to court and that's why I hired you."

"We will work hard to preserve the integrity of your case," Ms Robertson smiled broadly, she turned to them and began to bark instructions, "Okay, we're going to be working on a divorce settlement for his son; I will mediate, two of you will be on the father's team and two of you will be on the son's. I expect both teams to be on their A game because this is a serious deal."

"Are we really just working on a family meeting?" Quinn asked clearly regretting ruining her stockings.

"Mr Porter Pays us twelve hundred a piece per hour in addition to the millions of dollars he brings us in business a year," Ms Roberts snapped, "We do whatever he wants, all three naming partners once went to the Australian Open to proof the wildcard clause because he thought he had a chance."

"Okay," Quinn said dejectedly, "How do we split?"

"Blondie you're with Ladyface," she pointed to Kurt, he couldn't tell if that was a term of endearment or an insult, "No, then this other team doesn't work for me. Boys versus girls, perfect; boys are with London and girls are with Benji."

"You are so lucky to have me," Noah said nudging Kurt as they walked across the room to the prepubescent teen.

"Good Morning, I'm Kurt Hummel and this is Noah Puckerman and we will be your lawyers this morning," Kurt smiled and extended a friendly handshake, "We ensure you that we will reach a settlement that you will find quite satisfactory."

"Listen here 'Alexander McQueen two thousand and four boots'," the boy said giving him attitude for days, "There is only one thing I want and I doubt you're going to get it for me."

"Firstly these boots are from Alexander McQueen's first menswear collection and are an institution of fashion," Kurt was working on this kid's wavelength, "Secondly, I grew up with this king of parent, you tell me what you want and I will make it happen."

"What kind of parent?" Noah whispered in confusion.

"The kid is wearing a higher dollar figure than you and you have a job."

"Oh," Noah seemed to have an epiphany of sorts, "So, tell us why are you contesting your parent's divorce? What do you want to get out of it? Because I don't think you really want them together."

"Their happiness means nothing to me," he leaned forward and ushered Noah to do the same, "You should consider axing that embarrassing excuse for a moustache."

"Why don't you take that advice and apply it to those pubes on your head," Noah smirked at the kid who defensively clasped his curls.

"What do you want London?" Kurt was tired of this back and forth, he hadn't spent eleven years studying the law for this; he stared the boy down with his dead grey eyes.

The kid pulled out a list and began reading it, "I want a car, an apartment and a stipend that will keep me in the lifestyle I've become accustomed to."

Kurt looked at the kid whilst the cogs in his mind were turning, "Are you asking for emancipation?"

"What is that?" his eyes went wide, "That sounds so much cooler; didn't Mariah Carey have an album called 'The Emancipation of Mimi' before she got fat?"

"Yes she did," Kurt looked the kid over, "Emancipation is the complete legal severing of the parent-child relationship and abolition of any parental responsibility and support."

"In a lot of spheres you legally become an adult," Noah spoke in calm and clinical voice, "This would require you to be economically self-sufficient, have residence and you would have to have a valid reason.

"I want to ask for that too!" the kid had lopsided smirk on his face, his mind deep in thought.

"You can't ask your parents for stuff if you're emancipated," Noah said, his voice rising slightly, "You are on your own plus you don't have a valid reason."

"What if I say my parents are abusing me?" London's eyes were calculating.

"Are they?" Noah asked.

"No."

"Then that would be purgery," Noah shook his head at the kid, "it's against the law to lie in a testimony, but if you were abused then your parents would go to jail and you'd end up in foster care."

"You want attention," Kurt spoke frankly, he looked over his shoulder to the self-absorbed man who seemed to be more interested in finding wife number seven based on his behaviour toward the girls, "I get it, at your age my mother was a tycoon on Wall Street who sat on so many company boards she used to call me by her assistant's name. My father's political career was starting up, he was running for local office and I saw him one weekend a month. At the time we live in the middle of nowhere so they sent me off to boarding school, I know what it means to want attention but there are limits to what will do and we neither get your parents convicted of any crimes they didn't commit nor will we purger ourselves in anyway but we will get you whatever it is that you want."

"Kurt is right," Noah was calm once more, "you need only tell us what you heart yearns for and we will ensure that you want for nothing."

"I want my dad to take full custody of me," he took a deep breath, "My mother said she was tired of his black hole of a personality and that we were moving to the west coast, I don't want to leave. I want him to help me with my homework like a normal dad and I want him to attend my polo and lacrosse matches; I want him to come to attend my school plays and my musical recitals, he doesn't even know what instrument I play. I also want a fifteen percent increase in my allowance."

"That we can work with that," Noah smiled at the kid before turning to Kurt, "Well Princess, your parents locked you up in a tower and that just got us the gory details, you wanna open to heal the booboo."

"By the time I was twelve my mother had been dead for a years and my father's political career didn't start till I was seventeen," Kurt smiled to himself, "I went to boarding school of my own accord but I will open, thank you."

"Ouch, princess can pack a punch," he nudged Kurt's shoulder.

"Both metaphorically and literally," Kurt punched him before turning to his notes and organising them into an argument."

~0~

When Kurt got off the chopper at the end of the day he was pooped. They had argued all day; started their argument going in a purely materialistically outrageous direction to tire the opposition, they then switched strategies and when for the emotional jugular. At the end of the day their clients were both pleased; London got to stay on the east coast with a father who was more aware of his needs as a child, he got an increase on his allowance and Mr Porter could get divorced in peace. Kurt wondered if every day would be this much of a joke or if this was what they considered fun but this was not what he'd become a lawyer for, he wanted to work on actual divorces and lawsuits.

"Boys, you want to grab a drink with us to celebrate being better than everyone else?" Quinn asked coyly, "losers are buying."

"Oh Quinn," Kurt said well aware that she wasn't flirting with him, "You are barking up the wrong tree, I am a married man."

"Oh dammit," she spoke sarcastically, "that's what's wrong with me hitting on you."

Rachel seemed more excited about his marriage than he was, "How long have you been together? How long have you been married?" she had stars in her eyes, "What does he do? I'm not being presumptuous, it is a man right?"

"I'm not sure which question to answer first," Kurt giggled as they stood in the elevator, "It is a man, he's a surgeon, we've been together since I was fourteen but we got married after undergrad, we'd been officially living together for four years but we went to boarding school together. We both stayed at Yale for postgrad; me law, him medical school. Then he enlisted to do his residency in the army while I did my PhD." He notably omitted the fact that it wasn't a civil decision but rather that they had both chosen to do what they wanted in spite of the others feelings.

"That is the perfect love story," Quinn said with an odd sweetness in her voice, "I want so badly to get married and live happily ever after."

"Me too," Rachel said with a goofy smile, "I want what my two dads had."

"I loved that show," Noah said with a nostalgic look on his face, "My mom and I never missed an episode."

"No," Rachel rolled her eyes, clutching he Technicoloured coat as they exited the lobby, "I have to gay dads who have been happily together for thirty-nine years."

"I personally don't believe in the institute of marriage," Noah said pulling out his phone, "should I call us a cab."

"Valet parking is bringing my car around," Kurt said handing his parking card to the young man at the podium, "We can take that to the bar, it makes more sense than taking a cab, don't you think?"

"You have a car," Quinn was floored by the suggestion of such an absurdity, "How can you afford one already? I'm not buying a car till I've paid off all my student loans."

"Kurt is old money," Noah chuckled, "His mother was in oil."

"Oil?" Rachel sounded horrified, "Do you know what the environmental repercussions of drilling for oil are?"

"My family is in energy," Kurt was secretly that it was out there and no longer shrouded in secrecy, "That includes other things like natural gas, wind farms and solar power."

"You're a Doyle?" Quinn asked with eyes the size of saucers, "That isn't old money that is crazy money."

"Wait, you didn't mention that you were a Doyle," Noah was shocked as people usually were, "That's obscene money."

At that moment Kurt's G-class Benz stopped in front of the group and they raised eyebrows, "Just get in the car and be quiet."

"This car cost more than my apartment," Rachel said sliding into the backseat as Noah and Quinn fought over shotgun, she immerged victorious.

"Okay," Kurt rolled his eyes, "That is quite enough of that, let's just go drinking." An awkward silence washed over the car, "Tell us Rachel, Quinn, where are you from and where'd you go to school?"

"I'm from Northern Montana," Quinn smiled at the thought home, "I went to Georgetown, undergrad and postgrad."

"Well, I'm from Chicago," Rachel said in what Kurt was judging to be a permanent happiness, "I did undergrad at North Western and then I was at Georgetown."

"My husband is from Chicago, wait," Kurt was joining the dots in his mind, "You two know each other?"

"Not really," Quinn said blankly.

Rachel didn't seem satisfied with that answer, "Quinn was popular and ignored me."

"Understandable," Noah said with a chuckle, "I'd also ignore you looking like that."

"I am proud of the way I look," Rachel went on the defensive, "This is the look of my ancestors and I-"

"We mean the way you're dressed," Kurt interjected before she delivered the Barbra Streisand lecture, "You look like my grandmother and a toddle amalgamated into one big monster of bad fashion."

"Every time I look at you I feel like I'm on an acid trip," Noah said frankly, "Plus your people are my people, shalom bitches."

"Honestly," Quinn said with a strained smile, "I think it detracts from your ability as a lawyer, wear fewer colours."

"Oh wow," Rachel was silent as she internalised what was being said, "If I'm going to be a partner by the time I'm forty then I should do all I can in order to reach that goal, if that means one statement piece a day, I can live with that."

They entered the crowded bar and sat down in a booth, their minds were all swimming after a long day. They ordered tequila shots nonstop till one of them passed out. Kurt was nervous about drinking so much, they had work in the morning and before that he had to go see David.

"You want to be partner by the time you're thirty?" Noah asked Rachel after a couple of silent shots, "That is pretty ambitious."

Rachel looked self-conscious about their reaction to her stellar dreams, "Don't you guys have ambitions too?"

"I want to have family by the time I'm thirty," Quinn said softly, "I want to find a good man, get married and raise a family in my native Montana."

"Well I don't have any ambitions other that keeping my job for the next three months," Noah chuckled to himself," but within the next five years I want to set up a college fund for my little sister, she's twelve."

"That is a large age difference," Rachel said before she was able to stop herself.

"My mother had me quite young," Noah looked to be giving the subject more thought than he'd ever cared to, "when I was moving on to college she thought it was a good time to start over."

"I'm an only child," Kurt announced diverting the subject, "In five years, because thirty is around the corner, like Quinn I want to be done practicing the law. Maybe I'll run for public office or I'll be looking into working in the White House… as president."

"You're crazy," Quinn said with a snort of laughter, "Do you think the right wing conservatives would let a gay man become the president?"

"Quinn is right," Rachel said getting too handsy, "I'd vote for you but would they?"

"A portion of them would vote for me," Kurt laughed at himself for a moment, "because I'm old money, I'm southern, I have a very entrepreneurial mind and I'm a firm example of the sanctity of marriage. Oh yeah, my husband is an injured war veteran."

"Here's to dreaming big," Noah said raising a shot glass; they were all becoming sloppy as they descended into an alcoholic stupor, "toast with me."

"Here's to Rachel making partner," Quinn said with a silly smile.

"Here's to Noah making money to send his sister to college," Kurt announced merrily.

"Oh, and Quinn living the American Dream," Noah screamed, drawing the attention of the bar.

"Here's to President Kurt," Rachel cackled, there was a shot for each toast.

"President Kurt Edmund Elizabeth Christopher Hummel, the Eighth." Kurt corrected.

"There were seven men before you named Kurt Elizabeth?" Noah said with a hiccup, "That is one messed up family name."

"The first born men in my family have alternated between the same two names for hundreds of years," Kurt took another shot, "My father, like his grandfather, is Albert Bartholomew Wilhelm James Hummel. I, like my grandfather, am Kurt Edmund Elizabeth Christopher Hummel; they were much more generous with my name."

"That is a lot of names," Quinn giggled, "First grade must have sucked so hard for you."

"You had a hundred names," Rachel laughed as well, "And one of them was a girl's name."

"Don't tell me your parents didn't give you embarrassing middle names!" Kurt protested their roars of laughter, "Come on."

"Quinn is my middle name," She gave a heart chuckle, "My first name is Lucy, the kids in school called me Lucy Caboosy because I was fat."

"Noah Elijah Ira Puckerman," he took two shots consecutively, "I didn't get made fun of, I was the one who made fun of kids."

"Schmira," Rachel exclaimed raucously, "Why didn't they make fun of you Schmira?"

"Oh shut it Berry!" Noah giggled, "Schmira, it is a pretty jewie name."

"I don't have a middle name," Rachel announced seeming almost sober for a moment, "But in elementary school I had the worst perm on the planet, that plus the nose."

"No," Kurt said getting a head of the joke.

"They called me Big Bird," She laughed dejectedly, "it sucked big time but now I'm a lawyer at one of the best firms in the country."

"I played the system all through high school," Noah laughed, "in the halls I pretended not to care but I was an A student and a mean running back."

"I was the star kicker for the football team in high school," Kurt announced, "I was even offered a couple of college scholarships."

"You played football?" Quinn was floored.

"When I wasn't on the mathletes, debating team, drama society and choir," Kurt laughed at himself, "I always had to be twice as good to get half the praise."

"Between middle school and high school I got a nose job, lost fifty pounds and had my braces removed," Quinn said with a giggle, "I then changed school districts and started going by Quinn, I became the most popular girl in school; I was head cheerleader, an honours student, I was dating the captain of the football team and life was perfect."

"Here's to reinvention!" Kurt said raising his umpteenth tequila shot.

"Here's to making it to second year!" Noah announced happily refilling their glasses.

"Here's to getting the first case," Rachel squawked happily.

"Here's to Lizzy, Lucy Caboosy, Schmira and Big Bird being piss drunk," Quinn poured them each a shot for every nickname, "hoorah, let's pass out."

"Guys," Rachel said as they finished the last of their third bottle, "That guy at the bar has been checking Quinn out! Let's go make him uncomfortable."

She dragged Kurt to the bar with her, "Hi," he said with a giggle, he realised that he'd abandoned his coat, jacket and tie; he stood in just his waistcoat and shirt.

"We noticed you checking our friend out," Rachel said trying to seem serious but that only made Kurt burst into fits of laughter, "Why don't you buy her a drink?"

"I would but I was actually checking you out," he spoke in a serious tone even though he seemed to be casual, "Hal."

Rachel giggled and walked back to the booth, Kurt was left standing awkwardly with the serious gentleman, "Rachel, her names Rachel. Why don't you join us for the next round, we're buying, bring your friend too."

Kurt returned to the booth and squeezed in across from Rachel, "What'd you say to him?"

"I invited them to join us," Kurt said with a giggle as two gentlemen approached the booth, "Gentleman; this Quinn, Noah, Rachel, I'm Kurt and we're drunk; please get comfortable."

"I'm Hal," he raised his right hand before gesturing to the strapping gentleman beside him, "this is Tom."

"Hi."

"At ease soldiers Quinn said," garnering laughter from her new friends before she pointed her finger at tom, "You can sit next to me."

"So what do you gentleman do all dressed up like that?" Noah asked as he handed them each a pair of shots.

"We're secret service agents," Hal said sternly, "What do you do?"

"We're lawyers," Kurt said leaning back comfortably, "We're celebrating our first satisfied clients."

"Oh my god," Quinn said leaning seductively over Tom to smack Kurt on the mouth, "Don't say it like that, it makes us sound like hookers."

Everybody laughed, "You're behaving like a hooker," Kurt said nudging her.

"Stop hyper-sexualising my body and scandalising my actions," she said with a goofy smile, "Besides it doesn't look like Tom here minds."

She pulled him in close and started whispering in his ear; Kurt and Noah exchanged a look that expressed everything there was to be said, they both laughed loudly. Kurt climbed over the table to where Noah was sitting, "You looked lonely sitting here because it looks like everybody has paired up."

They looked from the cute conversation Rachel was having with Hal to the overtly sexual of Quinn with Tom, "This is not my life, I'm never the only one not hooking up, maybe this is a parallel universe."

"That's what happens when you decide to go out with girls," Kurt laughed and shook his head, "You sit and watch them hook-up."

"Final Call!"

"Shots!" Kurt announced pouring everyone three shots from their final bottle of the night, "let's get drunk and forget what we did."

"Here's to drinking buddies for life," Rachel screamed raising her glass, they raised their glasses one after the other till there was no booze left.

Kurt stumbled out the bar and into a waiting cab, Noah slid in after him. "You're drunk and I want to see you get home safely."

"You're drunk!" Kurt returned with a laugh, "Driver, I'm going to Xenarius Towers but I don't know about him."

"No," Noah said with a smirk, "Take us to Gemini Mews."

The car started slowly, Kurt looked over at Noah who was staring at him, "What?"

Noah leaned in close, "You look exceptional." Noah leaned in and planted a kiss on Kurt's lips; it was soft and sensual.

"Noah, I'm married." Kurt let his mind work a mile a minute; he was married and this was so wrong, he shouldn't be letting other men kiss him and he shouldn't enjoy it so much but David had left him and it had been so long, three years of celibacy, solitude and thirst. Kurt made a decision; he pulled Noah deeper into the kiss.

"What happened to being married?" Noah smirked between ravaging kisses from Kurt. They reached Noah's gated community and tumble into one of the identical semi-detached duplexes in a tangle of arms and legs.

Kurt pushed Noah backward into the couch; he wrestled the zipper of his trousers open, struggling slightly due to intense inebriation. Kurt brought Noah's throbbing member to his lips, he thought about how long it had been since he had done anything remotely sexual, he plunged in. He applied suction to the engorged penis, twirled his tongue around the exposed purple head and started bobbing his head up and down the shaft. Noah let out a high pitched squeal of ecstasy, Kurt knew then that a blow job truly was like riding a bicycle. Kurt devoured the cock as if to fulfil an undying sexual hunger, his head move to a precise rhythm that alternated frequently between fast, furious and slow, torturous bobbing. Kurt could hear Noah's breathing speeding up, his body went rigid and his member throbbed, "I'm cumming."

Kurt felt the warm salty liquid fill his mouth, he wasn't sure if swallowing would send the wrong message to his colleague but he had just fellated him the day they met, he felt the liquid oozing down his throat and trickle down his chin. He pulled off the still hard member and whipped his chin with the back of his hand. "Do you have a condom?" Kurt heard himself asking as he unbuttoned the larger boy's shirt to reveal a set of well-toned abs.

"There's a box in the entertainment centre," Noah spoke in a breathy voice, "There's lube too."

Kurt smiled as he stripped down to his underwear, he watched as Noah did the same. Kurt placed the box of condoms and tube of lube on the floor beside him; he leaned in and planted a trail of kisses going up Noah's waxed chest to his full lips. Kurt felt his underwear being pulled down his narrow hips, he trailed the kisses back down and grabbed by the hips and flipped him over so he lay face down on the couch with his bottom hanging over the edge.

"I've never done it like this before," Noah sounded nervous and his surprise was evident in his tone as Kurt pulled his underwear down exposing his sumptuous behind.

Kurt parted the muscular cheeks to reveal a hairless sphincter, "And you say you've done this before," Kurt said with a hearty chuckle as he tickled the boy's hole with a finger.

"Well," Noah chuckled along with him, "That might be a white lie."

Kurt inserted a single lubricated finger and ran it over the boy's prostate which made him arch his back, Kurt smiled. He inserted a second then a third finger, each soliciting a gasp and moans of pleasure. Kurt removed his fingers for a moment and received a whimper of longing from Noah; he slowly rolled the condom over his penis, making Noah wait for what he wanted. Kurt put one hand on Noah's shoulder and used the other to guide his latex clad penis to Noah's waiting hole; Noah let out a gasp of delight as Kurt performed the initial penetration, the first thrust was long and slow as Noah's tight sphincter fought against Kurt's member, Kurt felt intense pleasure in his loins as he felt his pelvis touch Noah's buttocks.

Kurt's thrusts started slow, calculated and long, each one grazing on Noah's prostate as in entered and stretching his ring, but as he got into it his thrusts sped up and the sound of flesh on flesh filled the room as Noah's hungry hole devoured Kurt's member and his thrusts increased in speed and ferocity. Kurt nibbled on Noah's ear as he ploughed the man's rear; Noah arched his back in response which sent an insurmountable pleasure through his body. Noah's ring clasped down and tightened on Kurt's throbbing member, "I'm so close!" the larger man said as Kurt's thrusts slowed down.

"Me too," Kurt moaned as pulled Noah's back up to his torso and started stroking his penis to the slow, steady rhythm of his thrusts.

"Oh god," Noah exhaled as his body went rigid once more, his sphincter tightened further and he ejaculated into Kurt's waiting hand.

Kurt's breath shortened as his back arched and he shot ropes of semen into Noah's warm tight canal with an angry grunt. Brought his semen covered hand first to Noah's lips then to his own as they collapsed onto the couch in a sweaty drunk tangle of naked body parts.

~0~

Kurt stood in the shower in his apartment across town from last night thinking about what he'd done; he had woken up with pounding headache naked in the arms of another man and high-tailed it out of there. He needed to wash last night off before he went to work or to see David; he needed to purge whatever the events of last night were from his skin.

He put on a fresh suit; grey, a colour David had always liked to see him. He felt that being good to David would ease the guilt he felt for the pleasure he had experienced the previous night. Kurt called a cab to go pick-up his car from the bar, he did so with discretion, from there he drove to the hospital David was being kept at.

He walked down the halls and navigated to his husband, he stopped dead in his tracks at the door; would he carry on as though nothing had happened or should he fall to his knees and beg for his husband's forgiveness. Kurt turned the knob and walked out into the room with his mind made up; this was a secret he would take to his grave.

"Kurt," David seemed like the man he once knew, he smiled at the sight of his husband; the warm smile that had melted Kurt's heart when he'd agreed to date the boy who was his polar opposite, the smile he'd worn when Kurt had proposed to him, the smile he wore at graduation and on their wedding. Kurt walked over to the chair and took a seat, he remained silent and stone faced, "I thought about what you said and I am so sorry baby; I know that I was unreasonable when it came to you going back to school and me joining the army but I love you. Kurt, I love you more than you could ever think; I missed you every day we were apart, I wrote a hundred letters a week but I was too scared to send any of them, I dialled your number a thousand times but I couldn't find any words to explain the pain I caused you. Kurt, love of my life, I wrote you a letter last week that explained everything and I pray it reached you."

"You were shot and blown up," Kurt's eyes filled with tears, "I told you that would happen, I warned you and you didn't listen to me; I could have lost you and I'd have to remember you by are your clothes and that last fight!"

David looked him with warm hazel eyes, "Baby boo."

"No," Kurt's voice was shaky, "No Baby boo, not now."

"Kurt, I will spend every day of the rest of my life making up for this mistake," David reached his hand for Kurt's face, "There is nothing I want more than for things to go back to the way they once were."

Kurt spoke in a small voice, "Things will never go back to the way they were," Kurt took a deep breath and broke his promise to himself, "I love you so much but… I desecrated the institute of marriage; I defiled the vows that our marriage is based on. I had an extramarital affair," a silence washed over the room, "Calling it an affair is a misrepresentation, I had sex with someone else and I'm so sorry."

David remained silent for a moment, "I left you, I made you do this and I want to make it right."

"Don't you dare," Kurt spoke with a heavy, "Don't you take my wrong doing and make it your own, and don't you dare forgive me because I don't deserve it."

"Kurt," David reached out for Kurt's hand; he placed the shaky hand in the large hand of his husband, "You forgave me."

"This isn't remotely the same," Kurt said angrily wiping his face.

"It was the summer that we'd been dating two years," David said with a crooked smile.

"No," Kurt said angrily.

"I was at a party with the ice-hockey team and they were talking smack about us," the boy continued despite Kurt's protests, "We were keeping our relationship a secret because I wasn't ready, you remember."

"I remember."

"I denied you, our relationship and called you a fag," Kurt hated this story because it showed that his perfect husband had flaws too, "To add insult to injury I had sex with that cheerleader from St Mary's."

"Don't."

"I went home wreaked with guilt and tried to call you but you didn't answer your phone because you were skiing in the alps," he pulled Kurt up onto the bed and into his grip, "I went into the closet that you had organised, put on the suit I had worn when we went to the Opera on our anniversary and hung myself with your brown Louis Vuitton belt."

"You were afraid," Kurt rubbed circles into his love's chest.

"I was a coward," David said, Kurt felt his husband's tears roll onto his forehead; "I left you a note. You cancelled the only time you have with your dad to come to be by my side, you stayed even after you read my stupid confession. You spoke to my dad and made him understand; in that moment I vowed that I would spend the rest of my life making you happy and making sure you never cried like you did that day."

Kurt wiped away David's tears, "You have."

"No," he sat up in and looked longingly at Kurt, "Three years ago when I left you, I forgot that promise."

"You've come back to me, haven't you?"

"I've come back to you."

A/n: I hoped you liked it; I would really appreciate feed back on my smut, was it to formal?