Fair warning, I do mention Blaine in this chapter- I'm sorry to all the Klainers out there *coughcoughRainbowsandRibbons* but it's only a brief mention and it's needed for the next chapter of the story.

The next morning Kurt awoke to a string of lude text which could have been transformed into an erotic novel. He had to read them in the shower, his hand out of the shower curtain so he didn't get his screen wet. He wasn't proud of what he did, but god, Elliot could text dirty. Kurt read them over and over again as he tightened the flying grip around his cock. He came to the image of what Elliot would have looked like last night, wrecked in his own bed, knees bent, and sheets bunched up around his ankles. And he came, at least them it was out of his system and…

That was it. No more of this.

Kurt got dressed, he went to school, all the time his phone was silent- not a word from Elliot. Kurt had plans during rehearsal- somehow steal Elliot's phone and change his phone number so he was texting Rachel instead. But at rehearsals Elliot was nowhere to be found.

"Where's the Starchild?" Kurt asked casually as they set up their equipment. He spat the name to make sure it was clear he still did not approve.

"He's got a family thing on this afternoon. Some fancy high-tea thing." Santana said as she drank from her tartan pattern water bottle. "You look like shit."

"Terrible night's sleep." Kurt said nothing more on the subject. "I don't understand how we can have him as a band member if he doesn't even show up for rehearsals.

"It's his grandmother's ninetieth birthday, give him some slack." Danny defended.

"Whatever," Kurt muttered, getting his sheet music sorted. Then, he had an idea. He pulled out his phone. If Elliot can text him at 2am in the morning, surely it was no more inappropriate to text him when he was surrounded by dear, innocent old grandma.

K: I read your texts this morning… in the shower.

No reply

K: Fuck, you can talk dirty. Got me so hard I must have been in the bathroom for way too long reading your texts and jerking myself off.

Still no reply.

"Kurt why are you blushing at your phone?" Santana asked.

"I'm not blushing." Kurt pressed his hands to his cheeks. Of course, he was blushing. Anyone would blush sending a text like that.

"I can confirm, Kurt is blushing." Danny said.

"Just got an email about a Versace sale." Kurt lied quickly. Santana and Danny shared a look.

"Versace don't have sales." Danny muttered to Santana.

"Not to mention Kurt spent last week giving Rachel an hour lecture on why Versace sucked." Of course, Kurt did not hear these whispers, he was too busy texting. He would give it one more try, one particularly dirty text.

K: Would you like to see a photo of what your texts do to me?

Then Kurt put his phone away and cleared his voice.

"Ready for rehearsal?" he ignored their eyes on him, "not that there's much of a rehearsal without that moron, he's the one that needs to learn the dance steps."

"I thought we got rid of the dance moves because Santana said it was lame."

"We still have to know how we are moving around on the stage. There's a lot of practice in making dance moves seem natural."

They began to practice and managed to get through two songs before Kurt's phone vibrated.

E: Do you even need to ask?

K: No, but I think you need to beg.

Perfect, now Kurt had him exactly where he wanted him, squirming in his pants at some fancy high tea surrounded by relatives, unable to do anything about it.

"Excuse me." Kurt said, and left the rehearsal room to head towards the bathroom stalls. It was the same bathroom from when they had their first encounter- there were still three stray buttons on the floor. Kurt had never done this before, never sent a shirtless text let alone a photo of his… downstairs. He knew the basics, like don't put your face in the photo and that some angles were better than others and that lighting was everything. Well, what sort of lighting was he going to get in a toilet stall? Kurt locked himself in the cubicle and decided to start with something simple. How about just a photo of his unzipped pants. That was a start, right? Sure, to get Elliot to squirm.

So that's what he did.

E: Tease.

K: You want more?

E: I'll even beg for it.

Kurt smirked at his phone, scrolling back up a few messages at Elliot's texts as he rubbed himself through his underwear. At least he was wearing a good pair today- deep aubergine colour, something that would really contrast with his skin tone., not that Elliot would even notice something like that- uncultured fool.

Kurt felt dirty doing this in a bathroom stall, so freaking dirty, but the thought of Elliot trying to hide his phone under the table at high tea made it all worth it.

Once his cock was hard and bulging under his underwear, he sent another photo.

E: If I was there right now your underwear would be so wet- I would be licking you all over.

Well, at least he sort of appreciated the underwear. Fuck! Elliot's texts kept coming in, wasn't he meant to be paying attention to his family? Kurt was meant to be sexually frustrating the man with spam texts and photos, not engaging him like this!

E: I would soak them right through until you were the one that was begging for them to be removed.

So that's what Kurt did; he shrugged his underwear down just a little, just so the tip of his cock was showing, and the beginnings of his shaft. He changed the angle of his phone until he got it just right, his cock head looking huge, a heavy vein hitting the camera light. One photo, that was it, then he had to go back to practice before Santana got suspicious. He sent it then tucked himself back in.

"Well, well, about time we finished in there." Kurt leapt back as he opened the cubicle. Santana was by the sinks, her arms folded across her chest looking very pissed off.

"I don't care what NYADA toy boy your sending dick picks too, don't do it on rehearsal time."

"I was not taking dick picks!" Kurt looked highly offended.

"The phone in your hand and your untucked shirt tell me otherwise."

"You shouldn't be in the bathroom; this is the men's room."

"It becomes my bathroom when my vocalist starts playing with his junk instead of his vocal range. And I expect you to wash your hands."

Of course, Kurt was going to wash his hands, he may have been horny, but he wasn't unsanitary. He turned on the tap and began to pump the soap.

"And wash for twenty seconds. That gives me twenty seconds to find out who you're texting your dick to."

"It's no one you know." Kurt lied.

"I find that hard to believe. Give me your phone."

"No." Kurt splashed water at Santana's face. He dodged and darted around her. There was no way in hell she was going anywhere near his phone, which was buzzing madly in his pocket. Jesus, why did his vibration setting have to be so loud?

He kept flicking water at Santana until she backed away and escaped down the corridor.

"Kurt is sending dick picks on rehearsal time!" Santana announced.

"What!" Danny almost dropped her guitar.

"I was not." Kurt lied with a straight face. "Santana is just trying to embarrass me."

Danny looked between the two of them suspiciously.

"Yeah, San, I find it hard to believe our innocent little Kurt would do anything like that."

"Yeah Santana, unlike some people in this room, I don't go putting pornography out for everyone to see." Kurt coughed, "Sex tape." All the while trying to ignore the buzzing of his phone.

Kurt pulled out his phone at the end of rehearsals and only once Santana had left the room. Kurt stared at his phone. Seventeen text messages and three photos. He closed his phone without looking at them, not wanting any unsightly images to show up on his phone while Danny was right beside him.

"Jerk face, who's Jerk face?" Kurt leapt backwards, Santana had returned and was reading over his shoulder.

"What?"

"I saw who the texts were from, whose Jerk face?" Kurt was grateful that he had not saved Elliot's phone number under his actual name.

"Umm." Kurt had to think of something and something really quickly. "Blaine, it's Blaine. been texting me all day, trying to get me back."

"Ahh, so that's who you've been sending dick picks to."

"I wasn't sending…" Kurt gritted his teeth, what the hell sort of tangled lying web was he weaving now? He hadn't thought of Blaine in months, hell! He really did not want to think of Blaine right now. That was a no-go zone. Best not to think about it, at all, pretend it never happened.

But whatever the name did, it seemed to work. Santana backed off with a stupid smirk and a seedy wink. Maybe he should change her caller ID to Nosy-McBratface.

"Your texting Blaine!" Rachel screamed. She was hammering and hammering on Kurt's door. God! He couldn't catch a break! "Kurt, you better not be! Kurt open up now!"

"What!" Kurt swung the door open to find a frazzled Rachel with her stupid bangs and blond tinted hair extensions.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm not texting Blaine." Kurt hissed, glancing to make sure Santana wasn't around before dragging Rachel inside and pushing her into the bed.

"But Santana said…"

"I lied." Kurt hissed. "I'm not texting Blaine so you can calm your farm."

"Calm my farm?"

"It means calm down."

"Who says that?"

"I don't know, people do."

"Have you been hanging around those Adam's Apples troupe again? It sounds like something they would say. So lame. Oh, is it Adam?"

"Ah… yes, yes, it's Adam, but please don't tell anyone. Just keep it low key."

"Are you dating?"

"We're just getting to know each other." Kurt was a fast liar. "Don't say anything, to anyone, not even Santana." Kurt hauled Rachel back up off his bed and basically shoved her out his bedroom door.

"Oh, Kurt, I'm so happy for you." Rachel squealed as Kurt slammed the door.

Kurt breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the phone that was silent on his desk. He needed to get the hell out of this apartment. He just needed… like really needed to…. Fuck it! He texted Elliot:

K: Where are you? I'm coming over.

I'm curious, is 'calm your farm' a common saying? Or is it an Aussie thing? Any one else have other weird saying that are seemingly normal until you think about it? Like how would one even 'calm' a farm? Play some Enya music to the sheep? Sprits some lavender oil over the wheat crop?