I wasn't a morning person. The minute I come back from my subconscious is the beginning of what I would always suspect to be a horrible today. Usually I'm right. I like it when I'm wrong. But God hates me.

My eyes opened up slowly, the tiredness causing them to shut immediately as any blurry thing came into visual. I could tell morning was almost over just by how groggy my body felt. I nuzzled my head in my pillow, only to feel something itchy against my cheek. I tried harder to open my eyes and smiled at the sight of Kurt's head below my chin. I could feel his warm breathing against my bare shoulder and I tightened my grip on him. Last night had been like a dream, in fact, it still felt like one. Kurt hadn't ever been this affectionate when we did things, and he had so adorably asked me if he could sleep in my bed with me. Of course I said yes. Why would I deny a beautiful naked boy otherwise?

There was a noise that made me jump, causing Kurt to rise up with my body. He remained sleeping as the noise continued on.

I frowned and slowly got out of the bed, making sure that Kurt didn't wake as I went to the source of the sound, pulling my boxers on and rushing to the door.

I had been expecting room-service or house-keeping on the other side of the door, not Wes.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I was excited to see him at first. And then I remembered. Kurt was here. I came to Vegas alone. Shit.

Wes smiled and held up a box of donuts and two coffees.

"Your dad told me to come see you. He says you haven't been answering your phone and I guess he thought maybe you were murdered or something."

I rolled my eyes and snorted. Wes walked past me, not even turning his attention to the sleeping guy in my bed.

He put the make-do breakfast on the table and turned around, still smiling. "Glad to see you're alive."

"Thanks. Why didn't you call me?" I was still whispering. I tried to block my bed from his vision.

"I tried. No answer. Plus I figured you could use the company," he stated. He looked me up and down then, casually moving a bit to his right and glancing at Kurt. I felt my eyes fall to the floor and I crossed my arms. "Or not."

"Let's go in the other room," I said.

Wes raised an eyebrow. "Other room?"

I grabbed him by his wrist and shushed him, pulling him into Kurt's room and shutting the door.

"I thought you said you were coming here alone," he hissed.

Think, Blaine. Use that brain. Come up with some lie. Shit. Shit. Today is going to suck. Shit.

Ding.

"Uh, well, I did come alone. I met him at a bar last night. You told me to get laid, didn't you?" Nice.

"David will be so proud to hear about this," Wes said, taking in Kurt's things in his room. Shit. "Last night, huh?"

I scratched the back of my neck. "Fuck. All right. I came to Vegas with him. Just don't tell anyone."

Wes just stared at me. He looked pissed but amused, and then he looked suspicious and I knew that I must have lost my brain in some form of accident I wasn't aware of.

"Blaine. Just." He paused, closed his eyes, shook his head, and sighed. I joined him.

"I know."

"How about we drink our coffee, inhale some donuts and then you'll tell me what the hell you think you're doing, okay?"

And we did. Quietly I went into the other room and pulled on a shirt and pants, watching Kurt sleep peacefully as I did my best to make sure things were done in silence. I joined Wes back in Kurt's room and we sat on the floor, avoiding each other until we were sure that we had done our best to not say anything up until this point.

"Me and David convinced you to come to Vegas, Blaine. But you told everyone you were coming alone. Who is that guy?" he asked me, keeping himself from shouting.

"His name's Kurt. He's a stripper at Fire and Ice," I stated.

"We really shouldn't have left you alone, huh?"

"Duh."

"How in the world did you get a stripper to come with you to Vegas? You didn't pay him, did you?" My silence answered that. "Blaine! What the fuck?"

"Shut up! You'll wake him up!" I said, throwing my hand over his mouth. Wes slapped my hands away and glared at me.

"We said for you to go have some fun. Not with a prostitute."

"He's not a prostitute. He's just..." What was Kurt?

Wes threw his hands up in the air and stood up. "Blaine, if you pay someone for sex that makes them a prostitute. Which is illegal. If anyone found out about this-"

I jumped up and grabbed his shoulders, looking deep into his brown eyes. "And no one is going to find out about this, right? Because you wouldn't want your best friend going to prison, right?"

He shook his head and sighed once more. "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas."

"You should go," I said, releasing him and picking up our garbage.

"I can't. I'm staying out here for a while," he replied, helping me.

"Then you need to at least leave the hotel."

"I will. But what you're doing is really fucked up, Blaine."

Yeah, tell me something I don't know.

We opened up the door and noticed that Kurt was already awake. Fully dressed he sat on the edge of the bed, his arms casually crossed.

"Morning," he greeted. No smile. No bells. Something about the lack of life in him told me that he had heard me and Wes.

Wes waved at him. "Hi, I'm Wes. A friend of Blaine's."

Kurt nodded. He didn't say anything. He probably didn't want to.

I walked Wes out, making him promise me like some little kid that he wouldn't say anything to anyone. When I returned back to the hotel room, Kurt was still sitting in the same spot, his eyes watching me as I sat beside him.

"I don't know what to think," he began. "Obviously I'm a disgusting person for agreeing to this, but that would mean you're just as disgusting."

I shrugged. "I'm not really all that worried about a label. We did what we did and it's over with. We're going back to Ohio."

"Back to our lives."

"Exactly," I sighed.

"When are we leaving?"

I checked the clock and glared at the red letters. Time was up. "We need to be out of here in about thirty minutes."

"I'll get my stuff."

"Kay."

Just like that things changed. Things went from being romantic and fun to hard and cold. Kurt refused to look me in the eye and I didn't dare get to close to him. I had honestly thought that maybe something more would have come out of this, but that's because I was delusional. And in love.

I waited for him outside the hotel room, my bags resting at my feet as I smiled nicely at the people that walked by. When Kurt came out of the room he looked up at me, his cheeks red with exertion from carrying his heavy bags.

"Ready?" he asked. For a moment it was like he forgot he was upset. His eyes had a twinkle and there was a smile playing at the corner of his lips. He realized he was happy to see me, but then he remembered that he wasn't supposed to be and his face turned hard.

"Nearly," I replied, anger in my tone. I walked over to him, put his face in my hands and kissed him.

Without waiting for him to do anything back I pulled away and picked up my bags and headed to the elevator. I wasn't sure if he was following me or not, but at some point I heard a bag drop and him curse silently.

-:-

The plane ride back to Ohio was much like the one we took to Las Vegas. Kurt gave me the cold shoulder, but instead of feeling embarrassed and awkward I felt just as pissed. He had absolutely no right to treat me like this. Sure I was stupid and careless about this whole situation, but he had agreed. I did not force him to do this. If he should be mad at anyone, it should be himself.

He was, though. I could tell that he was having inner battles and it was probably killing him a bit. I couldn't even stay mad at him because I felt so guilty. He was in the worse part of the situation: I had asked. He had said yes. The latter was more shameful and all I wanted was to come out as the bigger asshole of this whole thing, but I couldn't.

"Kurt," I said to him as the plane began to land. It was the first time either of us had spoke.

He turned to me and bit his lip. I couldn't say anything. I just smiled at him and faced the seat in front of me. I could hear him sigh in disappointment.

Me too, Kurt. Me too.

-:-

Kurt and I said a casual/obligated goodbye at the airport, but that was it; no hugs, no thanks, no anything. We both went our separate ways and that was that. I had managed to give him the rest of his money during the goodbye, and I just hated myself by doing that. Kurt had looked rather depressed when he took the check from me, but part of me could tell he was grateful. He was probably thinking how at least he got the money out of this whole thing. I know I would have been. Maybe.

It was weird to be back home, but it was completely relaxing and secure. I didn't have to worry about making someone else comfortable or trying to find things to do that weren't totally lame. I never thought that I was the kind of person to be addicted to laziness, but boy was. Television had never seemed so calming and I wasn't aware that I spoke fluent internet lingo until I got on Facebook and spoke to everyone about Vegas. Kurt went unmentioned, except for the "yeah, I did meet a nice guy" comments. I quickly changed the subject so no more questions about him popped up.

I even did the creepy thing where you search someone on Facebook and try to find out any and all information you can without adding them as a friend. He had everything on private and it was then and there that I decided that I wouldn't bother with him. If there was something that was supposed to be between us it was gone and there was no use in trying to make anything. Clearly Kurt and I couldn't deal with each other and the things we had done. We had just been two strangers having a little fun. Fun time was over.

I needed a drink.

-:-

"You're really pushing it, Blaine," my mom nagged. "Lucy's about to go on!"

"I know. I'm sorry," I replied, keeping my voice down as I made my way through the aisle to sit next to her.

Today was the talent show, and Lucy was last to preform. I had spent the morning trying to kill a hangover and ended up sleeping until nearly two. By the time I had made it to Lucy's school in Westerville, the talent show had already started and from what I had heard, Lucy was having a bit of a meltdown when she noticed I hadn't arrived.

The band that was playing wrapped up and they thanked the audience before rushing off the stage. Two of the school's student council members came onto the stage and asked the audience about their opinions on the band. Of course everyone clapped and cheered politely. They settled and the speakers began some lame award-show banter to introduce Lucy. I was surprised to hear loud hoots and hollers as she came on-stage, wearing what looked to be a floral summer dress. She waved at some people she recognized.

The auditorium went quiet and I could hear her breath in the microphone. She put a shaky hand onto it and squinted through the spotlight and searched the audience.

"Go Lucy!" I shouted and her eyes found mine. She smiled widely and the music started to preform the song we had rehearsed together.

After her song, the other contestants joined her on stage and the two upperclassmen went to the side of the stage, holding three trophies.

"What a fantastic show!" said the girl.

"Who knew we had such talented classmates?" came the boy's rebuttal.

The band previous to Lucy's performance were handed the third place trophy. Second place went to a girl wearing a black dress with black tights. I had leaned over and asked my mom what she did.

"She played the violin. It was good."

In anticipation to first place, I felt myself lean forward on my seat and listened intently.

"And first place goes to Jason McKenzie!"

There were cheers and shouts as the boy grabbed the trophy and shouted back at the crowd. He did a front-flip on stage and nearly fell of the stage. With the look of disappointment on Lucy's face I was considering running up there and pushing him off.

The auditorium began to empty and we slowly made our way out into the parking lot. Lucy was already there, leaning against my car.

"I'm going with you to the restaurant," she declared in a sullen tone. I nodded and waved a 'see ya in a bit' to my mom and Tom.

"Sorry you didn't win," I said to her as I pulled out of the parking lot. She shrugged and sniffed, her head faced out the passenger window so I couldn't see her cry. "Maybe next year?"

I tried to hold some conversations with her, but she only replied with shrugs and I gave up trying. I sang along to the radio and she reached over and shut if off, her cheeks flushed and eyes puffy.

We regrouped outside the restaurant and entered it, a facade of happiness finding all of us. Lucy smiled and waved at some familiar faces in the back. Tom and my mom held hands and made each other laugh. I followed behind them, my hands deep in my pockets as the waitress led us to a table. We only spoke of small talk as we waited for our meals, but once my mother was sure that we had all at least consumed a good portion of our somewhat expensive dinners she allowed for more serious and consequential talk to happen.

"How was Las Vegas?" she asked, her tone snooty.

"It was good. I had fun," I replied, poking at my pasta.

"That's good. You didn't gamble, did you?"

I sighed. "No. I'm not willing to take a chance at something like that." I was, but I hadn't thought about gambling during my time spent there. I was too preoccupied with other things. One other thing.

"Did you meet anyone?" Lucy asked, finally seeming like she was over her loss.

I smiled at her real interest. "Sort of."

"Oh," Tom chimed in. "Was there any romance involved?"

"Some. I tried my best to sweep him off his feet, but I think I might have failed."

"This was just some random boy?" my mom questioned, her face lit up with concern.

"Yeah. I'll probably never see him again."

It hurt to admit it, but it needed to be said.

My mom looked back at her food, suddenly less concerned. "That's too bad."

I nodded my head and looked over my shoulder, mostly to let the rest of the table know that I was done with the conversation. Tom picked this up and jumped into a tale about one of his (if not many) adventures in Las Vegas. Lucy threw out question after question and my mom managed not to choke over some inappropriate-for-Lucy talk. The restaurant was full of life, mostly because it was a Friday. I spotted some old friends, all of which seemed to be happy and settled down. Allison from freshman year had a little girl sitting on her lap as she nagged at her husband, who I recognized as an old bully of mine. Then there was Robert who got bullied like I did, but he seemed happy enough with his super model-esque wife. Other faces were familiar from my mom's neighborhood and the rest were just faces that meant nothing to me.

However, in the far back I did recognize a face that I hadn't suspected to be here.

Sitting with three others like me was Kurt. He was smiling widely as a man with a baseball cap said something that needed his hands involved to explain. The woman besides the older man stared in surprise but was just as amused. She turned her head and jabbed an elbow at a brown-haired young man at her side. He blinked and smiled, clearly confused as to what was going on. I watched them, all smiles and laughs and only a few red faces of embarrassments. I recall my family trying to say things to me but I just ignored them and watched as the family paid their bill and headed for the front doors. I realized that they'd have to pass my table and I snapped my eyes to my food, trying to hunch over.

I looked to see if they were gone, but unluckily caught the eye of Kurt. He didn't look surprised to see me, but he didn't look happy either. I smiled at him and he turned his attention to the tall boy in front of him. They left the restaurant and I excused myself and went to the bathroom, just so I could have a reason for looking out into the parking lot. The four climbed into a SUV and then drove away, and just like that I confirmed that not having anything do with Kurt would be for the best, even though it made my chest ache.

When I returned from the unneeded bathroom break, a waitress walked over to me.

"Blaine Anderson?" she asked. I nodded my head. She smiled and handed me a folded napkin and walked away.

I unfolded it, read it, and then crumbled it up and threw it away.

I returned to the table and made up an excuse to leave early. They all tried to fight me to stay, but I mumbled something about being sick. With a quick pace I walked out to my car and headed back to my place. The neon lights of a local bar was too distracting and I pulled up in front of it. I pulled out fifty bucks from my wallet and headed into the building, being greeted by loud music and hot air. It wasn't an ideal bar to drink at, but I needed a drink - bad.

The bar-tender served me a beer and I stared at a group of girls dancing to a country song. A drunk girl started to hit on me and I politely told her I wasn't interested. Following her failure a guy came up to me and tried to have a casual conversation, I told him I wasn't playing for his team and he walked away. Sure I had lied about being gay, but if it kept me from being bothered I'd continue to do it.

I drank three beers total and gave up when the bar-tender asked me if I wanted another. Instead I sat at the bar and waited for my buzz to fade, all the while going over the note I had been given.

It was from Kurt, obviously. But it had been unexpected. I was sure that he hated me, or at least wanted nothing to do with me. I was fine with that. I agreed that it was the best thing to do. But he threw me a total curve-ball and I wasn't sure whether I wanted to punch him or not.

"Are you sure you don't want another?" the bar-tender asked. "You look like you could use one."

I shook my head and he nodded, but before he could walk away I opened my mouth to speak. "So, there's this guy. He and I hooked up and spent about three days together. It was tense and weird and yet really amazing. But things ended on a bad note. If he says he's sorry, what does that mean?"

The guy blinked and began to pour a drink for someone. "Did he do something that he needed to apologize for?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe. Really I think I'm the one that should apologize, but he's not perfect either."

"Then maybe he's waiting for you to say you're sorry, too."

I pursed my lips. "So I should talk to him."

"Probably. The only way to really know anything is to go to the source."

"But what if you've already decided to let things be?"

He shrugged. "You need closure, don't you think? How can you let things be if you've left things like they are."

I put my hand in my pocket and fished out a ten, giving it to him as a tip before I pulled my jacket on.

Kurt wants to talk. All right. I have a lot to say, anyway.