Thanks to Blaine and Finn's impromptu visits, Kurt's heart always hammered a little when there was a visitor to his and Rachel's apartment. As he took a deep breath and swung the door open, Kurt really, really hoped it wasn't Blaine. Because if it were Blaine? There wouldn't be a Cheesecake Factory in New York that was stocked up enough to soothe Kurt's wounds.

To his relief, it wasn't Blaine. "Well, hello, Brody Weston," Kurt said, taking in Rachel's… suitor? As much as Rachel insisted Brody was, "a very talented and special male friend," even someone hell-bent on voting for Romney could tell there was something going on there.

Brody stood on the doorstep like the starring lead in a CW show. No Target shirts and Dad jeans for him, Kurt noted, admiring Brody's neatly-pressed navy blue blazer and jeans which hugged his toned thighs like a second skin. Brody held a box of organic chocolate truffles from Lagusta's Luscious in one hand, and a bottle of red wine in the other. Kurt immediately noticed it was a rather cheap Chilean Merlot from the liquor store across the street that mainly sold wine coolers to underage co-eds, but hey. Nobody was perfect.

Before asking to come in, Brody had the nerve to step forward a little. "Rachel?" he called out.

"Not home," Kurt replied. "She's at the Off-Off Broadway production of Silence! The Musical." Opening the door a little wider, Kurt gestured that Brody could come in; Kurt really did want to know a little more about the man before he gave Rachel his full approval.

"Silence!?" Brody asked.

"Ironic choice for Rachel to attend, believe me." Kurt groaned. "I do believe it was Finn's idea." Brody appeared to pale a little under his fake tan.

"Finn's?" he stuttered out. "I thought he'd gone back to Lima, Ohio?"

"Another impromptu visit," Kurt said. "It seems to be something of a thing."

"Oh," Brody said, shoulders slumping a little. "Mind if I use your restroom?"

"Not at all," Kurt replied, taking the wine and chocolates from Brody's outstretched hands. Kurt tutted. Brody had left the sticker on the bottle of wine — and wasn't that four dollars fifty well spent?

"What a tool," Brody commented under his breath, then placed his hands in front of his chest defensively. "Not you. Him," he half spat out.

"Him?"

"Finn. What a ridiculous name." Brody stared down at his hands, looking at little surprised as they curled into fists. "What sort of a jerk would take an ingenue like Rachel to see Silence!? She's a woman with rather strong morals and boundaries. Special. And that production? It's hilarious. Don't get me wrong, but…"

Kurt sighed a little and flopped down on the couch, tempted to add that as names went, Brody was far more ridiculous than Finn. "Why would it traumatize her? Going by the title, I'd assume some sort of silent romp like The Artist?"

"It's a parody of Silence of the Lambs. One of the numbers is called 'If I Could Smell Her Cu—'"

"Okay, okay!" Kurt exhaled, and mentally slapped his brother around the face for yet another one of his good intentions falling flat. Was anything sacred in theatre? And for someone allegedly majoring in it, Rachel's knowledge appeared to be more than a little lacking sometimes. "Point is, she's not here, even though she and I had plans to do hair masques and drink Arnold Palmers. But…"

"Really?" Brody's blue eyes twinkled back at Kurt. "I love hair masques. I can't say my company's as invigorating as Rachel's, but if you want a boys' night in?" Kurt eyed Brody up and down. He had perfectly shiny leather shoes, jeans without a single fray at the hem, and smelled of Burberry Touch for Men. There were certain vibes Brody was exuding, but Kurt tamped his hope down. The well-groomed tendencies of Sam Evans back in high school had taught him not to judge a book by its (divinely clad in Diesel) cover.

"Normally I'd suggest face masks, too," Kurt said, determined to find out if Brody really was too good to be true. "But I must say, your t-zone looks incredibly supple."

Brody smiled, pointing to his nose. "Kiehl's Facial Fuel. Used to use Clarins, but it didn't have a built-in SPF. Sun damage wrecks havoc on the skin."

Kurt clenched the arm of the couch to stop himself swooning back against the couch cushion. "Oh. That it does," he said, realizing his knuckles were beginning to drain of color. "Are you actually going to use the restroom, or would you like to share a cheese plate?"

—

It didn't take long for Kurt to suggest the bottle of wine be opened. If Brody had taken the train all that distance (really, Kurt and Rachel commuted every weekday, but semantics) it was only fair he stay for a nightcap. It had nothing to do with the fact that Brody was very, very pleasing to the eye. Unfortunately, though, Kurt soon realized that once you got past color coordination and skincare tips, Brody Weston was not very pleasing to the brain.

"So, Brody. It's been lovely to get to know you, but I should probably…" Kurt's cell phone chose that moment to ring, and he extracted it from his pocket. "Rachel," he said, through slightly gritted teeth. "Hold that fascinating tidbit about the best non-fat mango FroYo in Brooklyn. I'll be back in a moment!"

"Hi!" Rachel said, cheerily. "You'll never guess what —"

"You forgot your keys and you're standing outside?" Kurt walked through to his bedroom and sat on the bed, crossing his legs at the ankles. "Brody paid a visit," he explained.

"Oh?" Rachel sounded interested. "Tell him I'm sorry, but after seeing Silence!, I need to cleanse with Frankenweenie."

Kurt's eyes bugged out. "What?"

"The movie, Kurt!" Rachel hissed. "I can assure you that is not another of my names for Finn's… thing. I just wanted to watch something a little purer."

"I'll bet."

"Wait. I don't like that tone. Are you sure it's not pornographic?" Rachel asked, her indignant tone quickly shifting to resigned. "I don't even trust my own judgement any more. Let alone Finn's."

"Very much not pornographic," Kurt responded, and then reconfirmed the fact that Brody was there, and that Brody was looking hot, and that Kurt would eat all the truffles himself and watch the newest episode of Girls without Rachel there to provide commentary if she didn't get back to Bushwick post haste.

There was a wistful sigh on the other end of the phone. "Finn now has a limp, Kurt. A limp!"

Great. Finn-mode. Kurt knew Finn's 'limp' was either fabricated, or acquired from him kicking a chair with a little too much force. Even still, Kurt knew his efforts to get Rachel home and wipe his hands clean of Brody's rather dull brand of conversation would be as effective as trying to make coffee without hot water.

—

When Kurt walked back into the main room, he informed Brody that Rachel had gone to see a movie and wouldn't return until close to midnight. Kurt expected Brody to be the gentleman he seemed. Kurt expected Brody to take the damn hint and leave, and stop talking about calorie-light junk food and his favorite brand of shaving foam. Instead, Brody flashed Kurt a bright smile and reassured him he was going nowhere, and that they could just hang out together, guy to guy.

"You just look like you could use someone right about now," Brody said.

And the sad thing was? Brody was totally right.

—

As the night rolled on, Kurt found himself increasingly warmed by Brody's caring nature — or more accurately, the alcohol he'd been sipping, which was also a factor. With a smile, Kurt broke out the Singstar and the nail kits, and things progressed from there. Brody and Kurt now sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch, some ABBA playing in the background, chatting about how criminally underrated Savage Garden were, and Brody's high school production of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf. Although Brody had said 'Virgina Woof'. Before long, there was a lull in the conversation, and:

"So. We should have sex," Brody said, as he finished using the cuticle tool on his impeccably well-kept nails. Kurt jerked his head up from where he had been admiring Brody's long fingers and gaped.

"Excuse me?" he said, because he could not have heard that right. Rachel's friend-who-is-a-boy who wanted to get into her newly revamped miniskirts could not be propositioning him over mani-pedis. Last time Kurt checked, he and Brody weren't the ones who were doing Demi Lovato duets together, licking ice cream from each other's noses, and sharing the same cone of cotton candy during a "friend date" at Coney Island.

"I said, we should have sex," Brody said. "Not to spring it on you like that, but I'm kind of going crazy here, wanting to kiss you and make you come your brains out. So, do you think you could help with that?"

Setting down the cuticle tool, Brody reached for Kurt's hand and swept the base of it gently with his thumb. He flashed Kurt a smile which was oddly sweet and almost touching considering thebaseness of his words.

"Could I — with that?" Kurt said, staring at their hands as Brody linked them together. With his other hand, he pinched himself on his inner arm. Hard. Brody chuckled in response, and yep. Kurt was definitely not mishearing, and definitely not dreaming. What the hell was going on?

Kurt was idly wondering about looking for hidden cameras and thinking it was far too early in his career to be on Punk'd when Brody's hand slipped down to caress his thigh, finger running lazily along the inseam of his jeans. Kurt spread his legs further apart in response, and tilted his head back with a slight groan. Apparently, in the face of extreme shock? It was sex memory that took over.

When Brody's hand stopped trailing but just rested, warm and heavy on Kurt's thigh, Kurt finally gained the composure to speak again. "Brody," he said. "You're straight."

"I suppose so," Brody said, leaning in to cup Kurt's cheek with his other hand. "But I wouldn't call myself narrow. Definitions are somewhat limiting, don't you think?"

Outside of his fantasies, Kurt hadn't ever been in this situation; a gorgeous, chivalrous man coming onto him, actions so raw, and sexual, and there was no mistaking what Brody's intentions were.

"You…" Kurt stuttered, rolling his back against the couch. He tilted his head back on instinct, baring his neck because Brody's palm was trailing so much heat as it inched towards Kurt's crotch. "Rachel. I… I can't. After my brother's… washout, Rachel might not be ready, but she really does care about you, and…"

"Of course I care about her. A lot. She's sexy, and talented, and wonderful." Brody smiled, his teeth a brilliant white and Kurt watched him shrug one shoulder. "I respect her boundaries, but as far as I can tell, there won't be anything between us until she really works things out with Finn. So why can't two guys have a little fun?" Brody paused, his eyes wide open as the cogs appeared to turn a little. "Wait, didn't you just break up with your boyfriend too? Or —"

"I'm single," Kurt said; the pain still a little fresh after a few months, but with the amount of time he'd been spending on sewing, and blogging about his sewing, and trying to sell his sewing on Etsy? He hadn't really been able to afford himself with the luxury of missing Blaine too much. "And, yes. I guess I do need a little fun, like any teenage boy does. Feelings have no impact on hormones, I'm horrified to discover."

"So relax," Brody said, drawing out his words slowly. He leaned in a little, the vetiver and white pepper of his cologne winding its way up Kurt's nose. "Sometimes, he said, shifting so he was facing Kurt, "it just means feeling good."

"Really, now." Kurt lost the battle to keep his eyes open as his face was gently held in the heat of Brody's hands. "You tell that line to all the girls, don't you?"

"And some of the guys," Brody responded, leaning in until the tips of their noses came into contact. Kurt could feel the movement of Brody's lips as they pressed a soft kiss against his cheek. "But only the really hot ones," he added, after pulling away.

In the part of Kurt's mind which wasn't overtaken by hormones, he briefly wondered whether he should go to his room and fish out a pamphlet of some description for Brody's benefit. Brody Weston might define himself as "straight" but it was immediately clear to Kurt he'd put the moves on boys before. Yet, as Brody's mouth lightly trailed kisses down Kurt's cheekbone, Kurt felt his self-control crumble. For someone just wanting fun, Brody was being incredibly gentle. And, right now, Kurt wanted gentle. He wanted sweet, and he wanted hot, and this promised all of that.

So, Kurt took a deep breath, exhaled, then leaned in to kiss Brody. The angle made it a little clumsy for them both, but he swore he could feel Brody's smile. That made Kurt smile back against Brody's soft, warm lips, and then it wasn't awkward at all. Kurt tilted his chin to change the angle and opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, and wow. So that was what it was like to be kissed so you were weak in the knees. Kurt wondered if Brody felt it as well, but he was a little too embarrassed to ask. Also, asking would have stopped the kissing, and Kurt really didn't want the kissing to stop.

"You're hot," soon rolled off Brody's tongue; clichéd, perhaps, but when someone who looked like Brody complimented you, it was easy to forgive clichés. Brody's warm palms were soon cupping Kurt's face, his tongue lightly tracing the press of Kurt's lips before he deepened the kiss, tugging Kurt's hair with the tips of his fingers.

Kurt broke away panting, certain he was all disheveled hair and rosy cheeks, but if the way Brody was sweeping his tongue along his lower lip was any indication, Kurt's look was probably a pretty good one.

"Give me your hand," Brody said, and Kurt did, enjoying the feel of Brody's fingers squeezing tightly as he guided Kurt's hand down to the bulge in Brody's jeans. "Feel how hard I am for you."

"Oh!" Kurt sort of squeaked out. "Yes. Yes I do. Did you want me to, uh, use my mouth?"

"Well, as good as that sounds, there's something you should know about me," Brody said, leaning in again to slowly slide his lips against Kurt's before pulling away with a bright grin. "Giving pleasure to someone is all the reward I need."

"Very well then," Kurt replied, leaning in to kiss Brody again, but Brody clearly had other ideas. His wet, warm lips nibbled and sucked down the line of Kurt's neck until Kurt groaned, hands blindly reaching out and fingertips curling into Brody's strong, tight biceps.

"Relax," Brody said hotly into the nap of Kurt's neck, then his hand was on Kurt's shoulder, pushing him down. Kurt relaxed against the couch cushions, but couldn't stop the thrumming that coursed through his body as Brody's palms skimmed his shirt, and soon made light work of Kurt's belt buckle before tugging down Kurt's jeans, grumbling a little because yes, they were one of Kurt's tighter pairs and he probably shouldn't have had that third slice of Boston Cream pie for dinner. Eventually, Kurt sat up a little and raised his legs to help Brody in his task, Brody chuckling before mumbling a grateful, "Thanks."

Kurt wriggled his hips to help too, biting back a moan as the fabric dragged over his cock, and soon he was half-naked. He decided to pull his shirt off too, folding it hastily and setting it off to the side before lying back down. Being this naked would have been quite embarrassing, if Brody wasn't so… was simple a mean word to use? Genuine, then, in how he stared at Kurt like he was undeniably attractive, even though Kurt was nothing more than a casual friend at best. The mixture of arousal and kindness on Brody's face gave Kurt the confidence to part his legs a little wider, in clear invitation.

Brody took it, hands warm on Kurt's hips as he pulled him further down the couch and placed a quick kiss to the back of his knee. One of his hands settled firmly on Kurt's thigh, rubbing slow, determined circles as his mouth continued to kiss up Kurt's leg to where it met his hip. Brody looked at Kurt through hooded eyes, smile tugging at his mouth, and expression full of intent.

"I'm going to blow you," Brody said. "It's a good workout for my jaw, and besides, you? You got a great cock, and I'm sure you'll make the best noises when I've got my mouth around you." Kurt groaned, his hips tilting up on instinct. "Yeah, like that," Brody said, grin growing even wider.

"Alright," Kurt said breathlessly. "That sounds… nice?" Brody made a quiet nose in the back of his throat, a little like a laugh, but it was quickly swallowed up by the moan Kurt let out when Brody wrapped his lips around the head of his cock and tongued the slit. Kurt cried out, and his free leg moved to hook over Brody's shoulder, pulling him in closer. Brody obliged with a hum, mouth sinking deeper around Kurt's cock and making Kurt swear and moan.

Like everything else, Brody was good at this — any expectations Kurt had that the straight but not narrow boy wouldn't be able to deliver were promptly thrown away by the wicked twists Brody gave his his tongue; the heat and perfect suction of his mouth; the way his hand slid up higher and higher to tease at the soft skin where the curve of Kurt's ass began.

"I — can you —" Kurt gasped, hitching his leg higher and thrusting shallowly into Brody's mouth. Brody pulled back, wide eyes flicking up and cheeks hollowing as his mouth kept working Kurt over. His finger drew back and forth against the junction of thigh and ass, only hinting at going further, deeper. "Your fingers," Kurt eventually settled for, breath coming harsh and uneven as he none-too-subtly ground his ass down onto Brody's waiting hand. His cock slipped out of Brody's mouth and Kurt groaned in frustration as it met with empty air, but Brody only smiled indulgently.

"Yeah?" Brody settled back, twisting while keeping hold of Kurt. Suddenly, he reached for the bottle of almond oil they'd both used to massage their cuticles into submission earlier in the evening.

"Great," Kurt ground out, rolling his hips. "I'm going to smell like marzipan for a week."

Brody raised an eyebrow, as though he wanted to say something, but didn't. There was soon a finger, circling Kurt's hole then pressing in, slow and firm and careful and god, it had been too long. Kurt gave a broken moan, sliding his leg higher, his hips lower, aiming to get more of Brody's finger inside. Brody did just that, sliding it in deeper, his thumb hot and hard as it pushed against Kurt's skin, knuckles more of a gentle brush against Kurt's ass.

"Yes," Kurt whimpered.

"Yeah, that's right," Brody said, as he leaned in closer, like he was trying to get a better view, lips pressed tightly together in concentration.

"Brody," Kurt groaned, turning his face to press his flushed skin into the cool cushions. "Oh, right there, yes," he said, Brody brushing in just the right spot to make extra sparks burst across Kurt's skin, and Kurt curled his toes as Brody slipped by it again. "More," Kurt gasped.

Brody gave that more by taking Kurt's dick back in his mouth, giving it an almost idle suck paired with a twist of his finger that left Kurt grabbing at the edge of the couch as a slew of filthy noises escaped his mouth. "Another," Kurt managed, and Brody obliged by working his finger out to slip two back in its place. The pressure, the push of it, got so much more intense in the best of ways, the edge making Kurt almost growl as he moved his hips and pulled Brody closer with the foot in his back. Brody was still sucking his cock in impeccable form, and the hand that wasn't busy finger-fucking Kurt slid up to grab hold of hip, grip tight and sure and keeping Kurt from thrusting too much.

It was hard, hard to even know where he should move, because Kurt was caught in the middle of two incredibly hot sources of pleasure. He seemed to be moaning endlessly, as Brody knew just how to crook his fingers, when to pull back, where to stroke. Just as Kurt would think he was catching his breath, Brody would do something new with his fingers or his mouth and it would start all over again.

With a wet pop, Brody pulled off Kurt's cock, raising himself up on his knees and half-lifting Kurt's lower body off the couch. Kurt blinked at him, confused, and oh there it was. Brody had changed the angle, the muscles in his arm flexing deliciously as he did his best to make Kurt fall apart. "Ah— yes— there," Kurt babbled, squeezing his eyes shut and focusing instead of the building pleasure and heat.

Then Brody was dropping down again, working a simpler angle to draw it out, but there was no way Kurt could cool off now. Brody was pushing, dragging, twisting his fingers inside Kurt; every touch sparked off another surge of electricity up his spine as he writhed against the couch, pleading for "more, more, more." Brody groaned against his hip, placing wet kisses along the soft stretch of skin over bone there, tongue peeking out to trace circles on Kurt's overheated skin.

"God Kurt, you're so hot," Brody said, and Kurt barely heard him, digging his heel into Brody's back. He felt so perfectly spread out and worked open, his cock still slightly slick and cooling as the head rubbed against Brody's cheek and smeared precum there. He wished Brody would get his mouth back around him, finish him off so perfectly, but he couldn't seem to vocalize the request.

"Brody," Kurt gasped, hips lifting, then pushing back down on Brody's fingers. "More, please …" He reopened his eyes, gazing desperately down at Brody.

"Yeah?" Brody peered up, his blue eyes appearing a dark sapphire with want, voice low and strong. "More? I can do that. You're really hot Kurt." Brody lifted his head, mouth now coming down along the underside of Kurt's cock, giving it a teasing lick. Kurt threw back his head and swore, words melting together in yeses and mores. "Especially when you beg," Brody added with a smirk. Kurt moaned, loud and uncaring and knowing that he would beg for ages if it meant Brody would actually take him into his mouth and blow Kurt away.

And Brody, bless him, did just that. He paused his fingers for a moment, making Kurt groan in frustration, but then he had Kurt's cock back in his mouth and was sucking it with a new kind of energy. This wasn't about teasing; it was an all-consuming pressure, hot and wet and so fucking good, drawing Kurt closer and closer to the edge. Brody started to fuck Kurt with his fingers again, and it only took a few careful twists, and just the right angling to have them rub against just the right spot. Kurt's moans turned into cries, almost too high in pitch but somehow soft, toes curling and feeling the energy build and — there, god, right there.

Kurt was coming before he even knew what hit him, hard and fast and fireworks going off behind his eyes as he squeezed them tightly shut. His hips were lifting and Brody took it easily, swallowing around him as the sound of Kurt's final, drawn-out moans filled the air. He was probably leaving stress marks on the couch from the force he was clinging to it, riding out his orgasms in surges of pleasure helped along by Brody giving a final few thrust of his fingers.

"Wow," Kurt gasped, as little aftershocks continued to travel along his body. He winced as Brody pulled his fingers free, and grunted as Brody twirled his tongue around Kurt's cock a final time before lifting his head off and giving Kurt a wide grin.

"Wow is right," Brody agreed, petting Kurt's hip as Kurt continued to come down.

Kurt hummed.

"I knew you'd be hot when you came," Brody said, as he gracefully got to his feet. Kurt's legs dangled off the edge of the couch as he melted back limply into the cushions, all together sated. "Those noises? Really sexy," Brody undid his fly and tugged his jeans and briefs down enough to pull out his cock. Kurt watched him lazily, smile curling his lips as Brody bent over his prone figure to capture his lips in a kiss. Kurt kissed back, as the faint sounds of Brody's hand moving along his cock matched Brody's heavy breathing against Kurt's mouth.

"Ever had a guy jerk off on you before?"

"No, can't say I have," Kurt replied dreamily, eyes drifting shut. Brody continued to kiss him, groaning against his lips as he came on Kurt's chest. Kurt wrinkled his nose at the sensation but kissed back, feeling he should do his part. Brody kissed him, slow and deep and altogether satisfied for a few a comfortable minute before he pulled back.

"Wow. I did that. Wow." Brody appeared oddly thoughtful. "I'm going to the restroom to clean up."

Kurt was left there with come on his chest feeling kind of in some sort of sex daze.

—

The pair of them had managed to put their clothes back on and fix each other's hair by the time Rachel finally arrived, a little after midnight. She looked to Brody, then to Kurt, and shrugged a little before she placed her purse on the hatstand near the door. She wasn't wearing the shocked and disgusted expression that Kurt and Brody had wondered she might.

"Well. Look what the cat dragged in. How was it?" Kurt asked her, voice only wavering slightly over the last word as part of him still seemed tucked away in some hitherto unaccessed sex dimension. "The play, and the film?"

"Simply wonderful!" Rachel beamed. "Such intelligent parody taken from extremely derivative and base source material. Clarice Starling is an exceptional role model for the modern, independent woman who wishes to retain her femininity."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. Clearly Rachel hadn't been paying any attention to the extremely derivative and base source material. "I don't see Finn, is he…?"

"At the Red Carpet Inn, New York City." Rachel tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I thought he'dmatured. Firstly he wanted a refund on the movie because apparently black and white ones should cost less because they have half the color." Rachel's deep breath was visible. "And then? He apologized for not washing his hands after paying a visit to the restroom and tried to kiss me in the aisle. While wearing bright green 3D sunglasses." She flicked her hair again. "Men! Sometimes I think I should swear off them completely. Kurt, kindly inform your brother I am not interested in any further attempts at reconciliation."

Kurt snorted back at her. "Tell him yourself."

"I would, but I deleted him from Facebook." Rachel walked into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of Vitamin Water. "It's time for me to set him free."

"Finally," Kurt and Brody said, simultaneously, and sprung away from each other on instinct. Rachel took a long sip of her drink, then primly sat down on the chair opposite them, hands folded in her lap. "So, what did you two gentlemen do while I was acquainting myself with the actions of a modern feminist icon?"

"Mani-pedis," Kurt said, with a bright smile and less guilt than anticipated.

"Hand massages with almond oil," Brody added. "A little dose of Singstar."

"All the classics," Kurt said, still smelling the oil which as predicted left him smelling a little like a macaron in places he'd rather not. "Brody does them very well."

Brody waved his hand at Kurt. "Do you know he can do the Single Ladies dance?"

"Did you know he has a very impressive shimmy?"

"Oh, yes! Yes, I do. Don't go getting too close!" Rachel joked, her eyes full of affection as she looked at Brody, then Kurt. "After Finn and Blaine, I'm starting to think me and Kurt have the same taste in men."

"Blaine?" Brody raised his eyebrow.

"It's a long story," Kurt responded. "One that Rachel and I need a three-drink minimum for."

"I'm going to turn in," Rachel said, through a theatrical yawn. "Goodnight, Kurt. Brody, are you still keen to get an early start in the rehearsal room tomorrow? I thought we could put in some work on our mashup of Selena Gomez's Hit the Lights and Madonna's Ray of Light for NYADA's Christmas showcase?"

"Absolutely!" Brody called after her, smiling fondly. "I'll bring my Santa hat!"

"That sounds terrible," Kurt said, unable to help himself. "Yet I'm pretty sure in Rachel's hands, it'll be wonderful." Brody's face took on a love-struck expression.

"Anything sounds wonderful when she sings it."

"Goodnight, gentlemen!" Rachel's voice called out. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Brody laughed into his fist. "She really is something else, isn't she?"

"That's… one way of putting it," Kurt said, gesturing to the once ghost-white walls of his and Rachel's apartment, covered in a pebbledash of light brown stains. "We were watching Grey's last week, and Rachel was so angry with the cliffhanger that an innocent cup of coffee met its demise."

"You're something else too, Kurt," Brody said, standing up and yawning a little. "Hey, did you know today's Groupon has an offer on Moroccan Argan Hair Treatment Oil? Apparently it works best with a scalp massage."

"Yes. Apparently it does," Kurt flirted back. "Why, Brody Weston? That sounds awfully like an opportunity for a date."

"Oh, no." Brody shook his head as he walked over to the front door. "No, but we could be friends with grooming benefits?"

"I can live with that." Kurt smiled, looking behind him to make sure Rachel wasn't lurking before tilting his head up and pressing a quick kiss against Brody's jaw. "Tired?"

"Yeah. Early class tomorrow. Best be going, but I'll see you around?"

"Indeed. Oh, and Brody?" Kurt smiled as he watched Brody open the door. "You get Kurt Hummel's seal of approval."

Brody grinned and did a little stage wave. The moment his gorgeous outline retreated from view, Kurt gently shut the door behind him and stood with his back to it, allowing himself to indulge in a little sigh and a very big smile. His plan of a quiet, pampering night in with Rachel certainly hadn't gone to plan, but a casual sex friend without curfews? Delicious. If Kurt was going to keep on doing this with Brody, no actual grooming would get done but the risk of his colleagues at Vogue dot com seeing him with ragged cuticles would likely be worth the reward. Especially as the reward came packaged in six feet of tanned, blue-eyed CW-gorgeous goodness who would give Kurt tips on new exfoliating scrubs to try after making him come so hard his toes felt like they were melting.

After all, Brody Weston might not be the most interesting person in New York City, but to Kurt's surprise and delight? Boring didn't always have to mean unmemorable