"The park behind the Middle School playground at midnight. If you can," came the text from Matt an hour later.
Kurt's thumbs flew over the keyboard. "Are you sure you want to risk being seen with me in public?"
"It's midnight. The drug dealers are all on the other end of town."
"And you would know this, how?"
"I'm friends with Puck, remember?"
"I'll try not to hold that against you."
"So…midnight?"
"I don't know. Getting nine hours of sleep a night is a strict part of my beauty regimen."
"So you don't want to seal the deal, then?"
"Oh…it's sealed."
Kurt put the phone in his pocket and tried to concentrate on the English Essay that was due tomorrow until his dad was asleep and he could safely leave for the park. He knew what he was going to have to do, and it surprised him how hard it was going to be.
Matt was waiting for him on the swing when he arrived, shielding his eyes from the lights from Kurt's truck.
"Thought you'd chickened out," Matt said from the swing.
"Matt," Kurt said, taking a seat on the seat next to him. It was damp from the dew and the metal was slippery and cold, and he couldn't look at Matt right then. So with a kick, he was swinging back and forth. "We have to talk."
"Really? Because I was kinda hoping that there wouldn't be much talking tonight," Matt said, getting off his swing and standing in front of Kurt. With a yank of both of Matt's hands, the swing came to an abrupt halt.
"Kurt, if you want to end this, just say so."
"You couldn't even deal with the risk of me kissing you in a deserted parking lot. I really don't think you're ready for the consequences."
"How about you let me decide what I'm ready for."
"What happened today? That was just a little taste. I'm different, so people you call 'friends' have made a hobby out of making me feel less-than. Every day, I'm called names, I'm slushied, I'm thrown in the dumpster or shoved into my locker. Nobody wants to get paired with the gay kid for assignments or pick the gay kid for teams in PE. I had to start using the girl's bathroom out of fear of getting jumped…or worse. It's such a regular occurrence that I keep at least two spare outfits in my locker now. And if you get caught with me, that'll be your hell, too."
Matt lifted the other boy's chin up. "One. Those idiots aren't my friends. My friends are Mike, Finn, and Puck. In that order. And two…" Matt didn't finish that thought. His lips met Kurt's with ferocity he'd never experienced before.
"Are you wearing lip gloss?" Matt asked with a grin as he straddled Kurt's lap.
Kurt nodded, tracing the line of Matt's jaw with his fingertips. "And if we're going to keep this up, I'm going to have to teach you about proper lip-care," Kurt said with a raised eyebrow as he wrapped his arms around Matt's neck, pulling the other boy in for a kiss. This time, it was slow and tender, Hands found their way lower and lower as the kiss continued to deepen. Both boys were taking their time exploring each other's mouths and bodies, and although the urgency was, without a doubt, still present, both of them seemed to be aware of the fact that daylight was hours away.
"This is stupid," Kurt said when the need for air finally interrupted the kiss. "This can't end well for either of us."
The swing creaked as they rocked back and forth. Matt's large hands cupped Kurt's face, and Kurt let out a shaky breath. "Don't care," Matt said, lips descending on Kurt's again.
Over the next four days, Kurt had made more than a few discoveries. Discovery number one: Matt was ticklish under his left ribcage. Discovery number two: secret rendezvous at night were sexy as hell. They'd met every night for the last four nights. Kurt was so glad it was turtleneck season, because he was pretty sure he'd have a very difficult time explaining the hickeys that were taking up current residence on his neck. Discovery number three: They left little time for actual sleep. He'd probably gotten a total of eight hours in the past four days, and it was beginning to have a negative impact on virtually every aspect of his life. Not that he was complaining about that.
But people were starting to notice.
His dad made a comment about the bags under his eyes the morning after the second night. By the third, Coach Sylvester was starting to notice. She'd called him into her office after Cheerios that first week.
"Ladyface, look, I've made allowances for you lately because I know you've been under a lot of strain taking care of your dad. But he's better, and you're STILL giving me sub-par today. I don't care who you have to sell to get your groove back, but you're getting it back. I expect one hundred percent from all of my Cheerios, and that means you. Buck up, Buttercup, or you're out. Are we clear?"
Kurt could only nod, and planned to make a trip to the store for energy shots.
It only got worse from there. He began nodding off in class. The first time it happened was during French.
"Kurt," Mrs. Lasker the French teacher said sternly.
"Voulez-vouz couchet avec moi?" Kurt mumbled sleepily.
The class giggled. "Fags worship disco, you know," Azimio said. "It's like their religion or something."
Kurt was awake now, and stood up. "I, unlike you, am NOT a stereotype."
"Boys," Mrs. Lasker "Apologize to each other right now for those remark or you will be spending some quality time in detention. Kurt…see me after class please."
Kurt nodded, not looking forward to the lecture awaiting him, but glad that he escaped another detention on his permanent record.
But he'd have to come up with an alternative plan. The clandestine meetings with Matt was the stuff of romance novels and soap operas, but being constantly sleep-deprived was beginning to have a negative impact on nearly every aspect of his life.
He was sure Matt was having to deal with similar problems, but he was also fairly certain that he never had to face the wrath of one Mercedes Jones after falling asleep while he was supposed to be listening to her.
"It's tearin' up my heart when I'm with you
And when we are apart I feel it too
And no matter what I do I feel the pain
With or without you"
Blasted in his ears, jolting him awake.
"Take the 'W' to the 'T' to the 'F!'" Mercedes shouted. "What in the HELL is going on with you White Boy?" Mercedes shouted, yanking the ear-bud out of his ear. "You've been brushin' me off. It was like pullin' teeth just tryin' to get you to hang out THIS time.? And you know where I found that particular little number? Your sexy-time playlist," she said. "Last time you had one of those, you were seein'…" she gasped. "Kurt…pleeease tell me you're not wastin' your time on that fool again!"
Kurt froze.
He couldn't tell her the truth. That would ruin Matt's life, and he wasn't about to do that to him. He trusted Mercedes, he knew she wouldn't blab, but he also knew he needed to let Matt be in control when it came to dropping that particular bombshell.
"I've decided to give Sam a second chance," Kurt lied, hoping against hope that she'd buy it. "He's apologized for everything, and we've come to an understanding, and if you're my friend, you're just going to have to accept that."
"Oh, I accept it. Doesn't mean I have to like it," she huffed, and stormed out.
And Kurt made a promise to himself to be more careful.