A.N.: Okay, I've recently become addicted to the pairing 'Niff.' And, I must say, I am officially in love with Curt Mega. But yeah, I have, as everyone else, mixed the beautiful Klaine and the new and lovely Niff. I, of course, own nothing!

Alright, they just lost. The prestigious Warblers lost to the ragtag team of New Directions. How was it, Kurt wondered, that the moment he joined the Warblers, they were killed. Similarly, the moment he left New Directions, they killed the competition.

Sometimes, the countertenor wondered, where did he truly belong, if anywhere.

Still, Blaine invited him to the "We Tried Our Best" party at Wes' house; and, being a new couple, they had to arrive together.

Even if he didn't want to. And even if it was the snowing like Christmas in the middle of March. Because it's Ohio; because Pavarotti's grave can't be undisturbed for even one week.

The Montgomery household which, if possible, was even larger than the Anderson mansion, also seemed to be much more imposing.

Wes, David, Thad, Nick, Jeff, and Trent all sat in the large entertainment room, delighting themselves in the dinner Mrs. Montgomery had prepared. A homemade pizza, a large salad (for those who like to watch their figures), a platter of french fries, and, of course, fizzy soda, sat on a large table.

"I loved your duet!" Trent exclaimed the moment Kurt sat down beside his boyfriend. The countertenor nodded as a silent thanks and looked to Blaine.

"Thanks, Trent," Blaine responded politely, much like he always did.

After a few more minutes of watching re-runs of American Idol, David turned off the television. "Alright, we may have lost, but I think we all know two people who won a little something more," he grinned. "Nick, Jeff, what do you have to say to this?"

Blaine glanced over with a curious expression written all over his face. The blonde Warbler smiled sheepishly and stood up.

"It's taken a while, but I finally managed to convince Nick Duval into a date," he announced, looking quite proud of himself. The brunette beside him hid his face in slight embarrassment.

Ironically, Kurt had thought that David was referring to Blaine and himself. Not that he wanted to make a public example of his relationship, but surely something appeared different between the two. They probably looked at each other more, laughed at their significant other's corny jokes, even occasionally scooted closer to one another while they were sitting on a couch.

Or, perhaps, nothing had really changed at all.

Nick looked ready to burst into laughter. "We're kidding! Sorry, Blaine!" The Warblers burst into a a throng of clapping and congratulations.

Now the curly-haired singer was just confused. "Wait, so you're not going out?"

Jeff shook his head. "Not one dinner."

That was the funny thing about Jeff and Nick, or as Wes and David preferred to affectionately call them, Niff - they could pretend that they were in a relationship and not feel awkward around the other. They sat so close to each other at Warbler meetings, and even now Nick was practically sitting on Jeff's lap!

Still, Kurt figured, there was some admiration somewhere.

David flipped the television back on as Wes retreated to the kitchen. His parents were out for the night, allowing the Warblers this supposed-to-be victory celebration. Instead, it had just turned out to be a full-on pity party.

When Simon began one of his many criticizing speeches, Kurt glanced over at Blaine. The two met eyes and Blaine placed a kiss to the top of the countertenor's head.

"Wow, this is so sweet we may not even need dessert," Wes teased, walking in with a giant cake. "Ignore the misleading frosting on the top and please enjoy." No one dared to acknowledge the "Congratulations!" written in red frosting.

David picked up a knife and began cutting large pieces of cake. After placing them on signature Warblers paper plates, he handed them to Wes to begin passing them out. Trent was the first to grab the largest piece of cake, then Thad.

Kurt, to watch his figure, naturally, refused a piece; but Blaine, being the wonderful boyfriend that he was, split his piece in half and scooped a bite into Kurt's mouth. For once, the countertenor did not deny something so obviously fattening as a bite of cake - because Blaine gave it to him.

Nick and Jeff each took a gratuitous slice. Wes passed a piece to David and then set one aside for himself. Blaine excused himself to reach into his bag and pulled out a large bottle of sparkling grape juice. He went to the kitchen and reached into one of the cupboards and pulled out a set of wine glasses. After pouring each Warbler a slight amount, he raised his glass.

"While this may be a bit too early for a pep talk, I would like to raise my glass. To the Warblers."

"To the Warblers!" everyone repeated.

The group began to dig into their cakes, Kurt doing his best to refuse anymore of Blaine's cake; it proved to no avail.

"What kind of cake is this?" Trent asked, hardly discernable from his full mouth.

Wes took a drink of his glass. "French Perigourdine!" he said in a mock French accent.

Jeff took a large mouthful. "I don't know your mom, but I think I might be in love," he joked, eyeing his cake with a lustful sort of expression. The short brunette beside him elbowed his friend in the stomach. "Ouch, Nick!"

Everyone finished the rest of their cakes, hardly paying attention to the television program at hand. Afterwards, Wes picked up the fifth Harry Potter movie. "Blaine, guess who has your favorite movie . . ." he tempted, waving it around as if it were an Alexander McQueen jacket (in Kurt's opinion, anyway).

Blaine gave a look particularly reminiscent of his boyfriend. "As much as I love the fifth movie, we all know that my favorite is-"

"The third one!" Kurt finished, looking quite proud of himself. Blaine nodded and looked to Wes expectantly, because surely his best friend would have his favorite movie!

Which he did.

The movie started, and the Warblers all tried to find somewhere to sit (one would think it'd be easier, considering the size of the entertainment room).

Blaine claimed a large armchair, pulling the countertenor in his lap even while his boyfriend struggled against him. Eventually, Kurt wore and settled himself into the chair. Trent chose to steal a pillow from the couch and settled himself on the floor, Thad following in suit. Nick sat himself on the couch, offering a seat to Jeff, who graciously took it. Wes and David picked two chairs beside each other, stopped, then switched seats.

"To be honest, I like the fourth movie better," Thad complained. A gasp of horror was heard from Trent as a large hand was aimed at the back of Thad's head.

"Blaine likes this movie! This is what we watch!"

Kurt chuckled. "Looks like you've got yourself an admirer," he whispered into Blaine's ear, loving how the dark-haired teen shivered slightly at the sudden closeness.

"I hope I've got two," Blaine answered.

"You might; then again, you might not."

"You wound me, good sir!" Blaine retorted in his best Monty Python impersonation. Which, if one were getting technical, was actually quite good.

David made a gagging sound, obviously done with the show of British affection. "Get a room!"

"Not at my house!" Wes interjected.

Jeff looked over at Nick, a smile playing on his lips. The smile faded slightly when he noticed his friend seemed to be working up a sweat. "Do you need to take off your jacket?" he asked, catching his brunette of a friend off guard.

"It is pretty hot in here, isn't it?" Nick answered, placing his head against his hand.

"My family keeps my home at a comfortable sixty-five degrees, I'll have you know!"

Blaine threw a pillow at his friend. "He doesn't mind, Nick."

"Though Jeff might," David muttered, pretending to be quiet, even though he knew that everyone could hear him perfectly.

Ignoring the comment, Nick shed his jacket, pushing some of his hair back from his face.

"Dude, you're soaked!" Thad exclaimed. One look at Nick proved his point; the brunette's white shirt was sticking to him.

Kurt got off of Blaine and placed a hand to Nick's forehead. "You're burning up!"

This time, Jeff jumped to his feet, kneeling down beside his friend. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked as if nobody else was around. And, Kurt figured, he probably didn't notice anyone else.

Nick's breathing was heavy and labored; he squeezed his eyes shut and reopened them in a feeble attempt to focus them. "I think I'm going to-" He clamped a hand over his mouth, finding it too hard to speak without becoming nauseated. David grabbed a nearby trash can and held it out in front of Nick.

A nod of thank you was all it took to force the sick Warbler to empty his stomach in the trash can. Blaine's lips tightened into a thin line. "Has he been sick all day?" he asked Jeff. The blonde shook his head absentmindedly, not daring to keep his eyes off his friend.

Once Nick had thrown up everything he could, he still dry-heaved; tears were beginning to form at the corner of his eyes.

"Have you had the flu recently?" Kurt asked.

Nick shook his head slowly.

"A cold?"

Another negative response.

"Do you have an allergy?"

This time, Jeff nodded. "Yeah, he does."

Blaine took over. "To what?"

"Walnuts."

Thad furrowed his brow. "We all had chicken noodle soup for lunch today, and we had pizza for dinner. Are you sure it's not the flu?"

"Wes, what did you say your mom made for dessert?" Kurt asked calmly.

"French Perigourdine," he answered.

The countertenor made a horrified face as years of French class came flooding back into his mind all at once. "French Perigourdine Walnut cake!"

Jeff's mouth opened in shock. "What do we do?" he half-whispered in a hoarse voice he couldn't quite believe was his own.

It soon became aware where Kurt belonged. Despite their wonderful grades, the Warblers were less like birds and more like rodents. Lemmings, to be exact. Without him, they'd have no idea what to do. And, while that gave a slightly vain sense of superiority over them, Kurt decided that this was not the best time to bring up his new epiphany. He whipped out his overused cell phone and began dialing.

"I'm calling an ambulance," he announced. "Blaine, give him back his jacket. Jeff, lie him down on the couch, but do not put a pillow under his head."

The lead Warbler did as told, even if Nick kept rejecting the jacket, insisting that it was too hot. His breathing became more frantic and labored as time went on.

"Someone keep him calm!" Kurt instructed, still on the phone with the operator.

Jeff sat down next to Nick, putting a firm hand on his trembling shoulder. "It's gonna be okay, okay? I should've known - this is all my fault, I-"

Nick shook his head, obviously disagreeing. He took a quick breath, shuddering. "I ca-can't . . ." his voice trailed off, and for a moment Jeff feared that his friend had passed out. Fortunately (or unfortunately), Nick continued his erratic breathing; Jeff could only imagine how hard it must be. Taking this as a moment to do as Kurt had said, Jeff grabbed his friend's shoulder again and laid him backwards.

This was probably the worst time, Jeff realized, but Nick truly was beautiful. He was short (much like Blaine), but very slight (kind of like Kurt). His dark hair that was sometimes obviously brown and sometimes closer to black framed his face so perfectly it was criminal. And, while Jeff was quite aware that he would never dare tell Nick that he felt this way, he couldn't deny it-

I'm in love with him.

Kurt got off the phone with a huff, startling the two boys on the couch. "It's snowing out, so they'll be slightly delayed," he whispered to Blaine. "What do we do?"

Blaine grabbed Kurt and pulled him close so that only he could hear him. "Calm down, babe; it's gonna be okay. It has to be okay." The two looked at each other - Kurt near tears, Blaine's jaw set firmly so that he didn't start freaking out - and they just seemed to understand each other.

Nick began coughing, catching Kurt's attention once more. The countertenor looked at his boyfriend with a frightened expression; Blaine put his arm on the top of Kurt's head, kissing it gently as an added emotional support. He could really do nothing else.

"An EpiPen!" Kurt yelled, completely spoiling the moment. "Jeff, do you know if he has one?"

The blonde didn't even react to the fact that Kurt just knew that Jeff was aware of everything about Nick. They knew each other inside and out, even if they never truly acknowledged it.

Still, this was not the moment to be dwelling on it.

Like instinct, Jeff picked up Nick's backpack that had been left forgotten on the floor. He opened the front compartment and unzipped a pocket, pulling out the needle. He had about twenty articles on how to use an Epipen, because, honestly, he always wanted to be there for Nick.

"Do you have to . . . ?" Blaine asked, curiosity written all across his worried face.

"No, you don't have to take his pants off, Mr. In-A-Relationship," David retorted, doing his best to add at least a little bit of humor to the tense situation.

"And you say your mom's a doctor," Wes noted.

The curly-haired Warbler said nothing but only gave a sour face. Jeff chose to ignore them and got down to Nick's level. "Hey, you still with me?"

A short nod from the sweat-covered Warbler allowed Jeff to tilt his chin. "Alright, I'm gonna give you this?" he said, though it sounded much more like a question. "Nick, I need you to stay awake." The two teens looked at each other, each with a look of pure terror.

What was the worst part, Jeff realized, wasn't that he had to give his best friend a shot - it was that his best friend was in so much pain already that he didn't even notice it.

Kurt sighed. "Alright, it's only a temporary treatment, but the ambulance is supposed to be here soon," he took a wary glance at the snowy driveway. "I sure hope so." The countertenor's blue-green eyes glanced over in an interested sort of way at the two teens on the couch. "Anderson, you'll be giving me ten dollars by the end of the night, you know," he mumbled off-handedly.

The boyfriend in question seemed appalled. "Oh, please. And, please don't use my last name. I feel like I'm in trouble."

Everyone seemed to have calmed down a bit, even Nick. He closed his eyes and wiped his forehead, pushing his bangs all together. Naturally, as his best friend, Jeff had to put it back into place, his hand lingering for more than a few seconds.

And Nick didn't push him away.

No one dared to say anything, but they were certainly thinking.

It was quite impossible to say that Nick was anything close to better, but he wasn't dead (and Jeff couldn't be more thankful). After a few minutes of nothing (which seemed like hours of nothing), bright lights began to flash outside. Nick's eyes darted towards Jeff, fear immediately written over his pale face. "What do I do?" he whispered slowly. Jeff said nothing and scooped up his friend, noticing just how tiny he really was. Usually, this was adorable; now, it was simply frightening.

Trent opened the door, allowing every other Warbler to file out before rushing out the door himself. Two men stood outside the ambulance with a gurney. One was a tall men in his mid-fourties with light brown hair and creases on his forehead. The other was a slimmer man with black hair, looking to be about thirty. The taller man reached for the gurney pushing it forward slightly.

"Have you administered an EpiPen?" the younger man asked.

Kurt nodded, taking complete charge of the situation, seeing as no one else would. "About ten minutes ago."

The two paramedics nodded, glancing at each other. "And has be been showing signs of anaphylactic shock?" the older man asked. "Any coughing, difficulty breathing, nausea?"

This time Blaine bobbed his head up and down. "Yeah, I'm not for sure how long, though," he added.

"Let's lay him down," one (Jeff wasn't quite sure which one; he was only focused on Nick), said. But, finding it most useful to listen to the professionals, Jeff laid him down, hesitating as Nick kept a weak hold on the blonde's arm.

"Don't go," he mouthed.

The men took no notice to the silent pleading and began to load the gurney into the ambulance, and Jeff realized that, even if he was being completely irrational, this might just be the only time (and the last time) he might get to say this.

"I love you!" he practically yelled, trying not to notice the Nick's eyes widen significantly and and then attempt to get up. The taller man gently pushed him back down and began to close the door.

"We don't recommend anyone riding with us. We need to monitor his signs very closely. You're free to follow along in another car, but," he paused, glancing at the torrent of snow, "I don't think it'd be a good idea for you kids in this weather."

The ambulance drove away, leaving the Warblers in uncomfortable silence. Kurt grabbed his car keys from out of his pocket and glanced at his boyfriend. "We're following, right?" he asked, though he didn't seem as if his opinion would sway no matter what anyone said.

That was, of course, until the rest of the group ran to the car.

"I guess we are."

A.N.: I'm sure we can all figure out what's going to happen next, but I'm not quite sure if I'm going to continue this. So, I'd like a bit of an opinion. Also, I know that there wasn't as much Klaine as I would've hoped, but if I do continue this, I certainly plan on making much more Klaine. I still hope you all enjoyed it! (Also, I know NOTHING about allergic reactions, as you could plainly tell; and if someone would be kind enough to inform me so that I may re-edit this story, I would be most grateful!)