A/N: Hehe hi! Apologies for the cliffhanger (not really it was juicy seeing your reactions), not too sure where this one's going as of yet but whatever, the boys seem to run away by themselves at this point ok :)

Enjoy!

Glee is not mine because if it was, the only intimacy Finn and Rachel would have together would be when Finn breaks her nose and she breaks his balls.

"What?"

Blaine stopped his ministrations, "Um… yeah… a boyfriend."

The awkwardness and timing of this situation could not have been more awkward if you put Burt Hummel in the room with them. Kurt not so gracefully extracted Blaine's fingers from inside his ass (That's something I never thought I'd do) and stared at Blaine in complete shock. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

And with that, he got up and began frantically searching for his discarded items of clothing. These were the moments where Kurt wished he didn't wear so many layers.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. No. Kurt, c'mon, come back here. Please? I'm sorry, it completely slipped my mind."

At that, Kurt turned around and marched back up to Blaine; not giving a single shit about personal space or how even though Kurt was indisputably furious with Blaine his stomach did a little flip and his heart started beating faster just being that close to Blaine. Cut it out, Kurt.

"How can you just," he waved his hands around, looking for an appropriate word but coming up empty, "forget that you have a boyfriend? Those kinds of things don't just happen."

"I forgot because I was so amazed at seeing you and you do things to me Kurt. You did the moment I saw you five years ago and you did the moment you bowled me over in the street tonight. I can't explain why I lied, it's probably not forgivable and I'm sorry – more sorry than you can know – if I've hurt you but you just…" he trailed off, hoping Kurt was getting the idea of what he was trying to say. He noticed that Kurt's eyes softened momentarily before the walls, blocking him from others, were back up again.

Kurt looked like he may have given in; seen that Blaine forgetting about his boyfriend was actually really romantic and would jump in his arms any second so they could continue what they started.

He gently lifted his hand to Blaine's face; caressing it, relishing in the feel of his prickly stubble growing and the smoothness of the skin underneath, before he drew it back and slapped Blaine.

"No one messes around with the Hummel's. My father told me that and I'm telling you that. Obviously you've changed, not for the better and I don't think I want to be associated with someone who can apparently just forget about their loved ones when some other guy walks by him." And on that note he stormed towards the door, pausing only to look back and say to Blaine, with such a sadness in his eyes, "Happy birthday to me, right?"

He ran out of Blaine's building as quickly as possible, every second spent in it making the smell and texture of the air around him cling to him, bringing back unwanted and unnecessary memories; memories of five years ago when things were simpler and Blaine wasn't a joke.

He didn't even look back to see if Blaine was chasing after him. He tried to convince himself that he didn't care, but, hey, who was he fooling? Certainly not himself.

As Kurt ran down the streets of Florence, he could feel the familiar sting of the tears building up behind his eyes. No, Kurt, you don't get to cry over him. He was an asshole. See this is why you don't do feelings; you just end up getting hurt.

He didn't care where he was going, he just wanted the pain to go away and as soon as he saw a bar, he went in. He was reverting back to his night's original plans of getting drunk and finding someone to have a meaningless, stupid one night stand with.

Kurt didn't like doing this. He didn't like picking up strangers, bringing them home and having sex with them before they left or he kicked them out. He'd always been a man of substance not style, romance not stupidity and he wasn't sure where along the road he forgot that. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt strike his heart at thinking about what his father would think or say about the way Kurt was acting.

Truth be told, Kurt was lonely. Sure he had a few good friends he could count on to take him out and have a good time with but for the most part he missed the people of Lima. Not the jackasses like Karofsky and Azimio. No. But his girls like Quinn and Rachel, and, hell, he even missed Puck.

But for as much as he missed them, he knew that if he hadn't taken this opportunity he'd still be stuck there. In a hole of nothingness, being constantly oppressed by the society of Neanderthals surrounding him and their ignorance and immoral and unjust beliefs.

Kurt sat at the bar, nursing a Vodka and Coke and pitying himself. Fabulous way to spend your birthday, Kurt. You've really outdone yourself this time. He mentally scolded himself for being so pathetic.

As he continued to internally berate himself, he failed to notice the presence behind him until a firm and warm hand was placed on his shoulder. He turned around and came face to face with a typical Italian looking boy. Brown hair and brown eyes, which would be considered dull, but his eyes had a certain sparkle to them.

The mysterious boy cocked his head curiously, obviously amused at Kurt's staring, before clearing his throat and holding out a hand; a silent question to dance.

Kurt looked back down at his nearly empty glass, decided to have some fun, downed the rest of his drink and leaped up, pulling that man behind him. He felt a tug on his arm and turned around to be pulled closer by the man.

"My name is Francesco," he drawled with a strong Italian accent.

"I'm Kurt. Now, come on. Let's dance"

What started off as an innocent shimmy here, hip swirl there soon turned into Francesco gyrating his hips against Kurt's ass, making him increasingly harder as the steady thump of the song drummed into his body. He lost himself in the movement and the familiar feeling of being surrounded by people, trying not to be too preoccupied by the plaguing thought of how much sweat must be on his clothes.

As he turned around to try tell Francesco that he needed air, he found his lips captured in a strong yet messy kiss. He only hesitated for a few seconds before giving in and moving his lips in time with Francesco's. It wasn't at all loving or careful. It was all teeth clacking, licking into each other's mouths, tasting every inch of it possible. Soon he felt Francesco's hands roaming his body, starting at his chest but steadily snaking their way around; caressing his hips before travelling further south and firmly grasping onto his ass and crashing their hips together.

Kurt let out a stuttering gasp, and Francesco took this as an opportunity to become well acquainted with the contours of Kurt's neck. He could feel Francesco sucking and soothing little marks onto his skin, he had his hands wound in his hair and he thrusted into Francesco over and over again, receiving the much-needed friction but it not being nearly enough.

He pushed Francesco backwards out of the crowd and towards a more isolated section of wall towards the back of the club. They were in full view of the bar but Kurt couldn't care less right now. He really just needed to get all thoughts of Blaine and his stupidity out of his mind.

He backed Francesco up against the wall and continued ferociously slamming his hips against Francesco's. His erection was straining against his skin-tight jeans and, not for the first time, he wondered why he insisted on wearing such impossible things especially when going to bars.

Francesco loosened his grip from Kurt's ass to palm him through the material of his jeans. Kurt moaned and recaptured Francesco's lips with his own, somehow making it possible to turn the kiss even more heated as he panted and groaned. He could feel his release coming soon and wasn't sure he was ready to publically humiliate himself by coming in public, so he reluctantly pulled away from Francesco; smiling as he noticed Francesco's lips chasing his own.

"I'm having too much fun to finish it off so quickly. How about we go back to my apartment?" he asked, knowing Francesco's answer would be a definite yes.

Francesco just winked, cupped his hard on again and said, "lead the way, beautiful"

Kurt grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the bar as quickly as possible, not wanting to waste any time that they had. He couldn't let his mind wander in fear of it reaching a dead end at Blaine like it always did. Except, now, he didn't have just those nice memories to associate with the name, but cold, hurt feelings. He felt used.

There was a part of him that was extremely flattered that he had the effect on Blaine where he could make him completely forget about his boyfriend and the fact that Kurt was most certainly not him, but it still hurt. It hurt because Kurt was always being let down. He was always lied to. He was always the one being played. For once, he thought Blaine might have been different, that this might have been different.

He hated being wrong but he'd come to accept that, when it came to love, he'd never get it right.

So, this is why Kurt could be found, on his birthday, dragging a random stranger who, the only thing he knew about him was his name, appearance, the fact that he new how to work his body and, judging by his erection, had as much an impressive south and north.

Kurt's favourite flowers are blue roses, because of how rare they are and how special that makes them, like his whole being makes him special and unique. He told Blaine this that night so many years ago. It's a shame Kurt didn't see Blaine standing at the bar, holding a bouquet of blue roses and heart breaking into a thousand and one shards after seeing the whole exchange with this strange, Italian boy.