Title: We Lose Ourselves In Liquor
Summary: It's not quite the night Kurt had imagined but who is he to comment when he won't remember?
Disclaimer: Obligatory comment about not owning anything.
A/N: I kid you not, this fic has taken me at least a month. At least what feels like a month. This is in the Anderberry!verse (just - brief mentions of Rachel being Blaine's sister) and is very Klaine heavy. But that's why you're here. Well I hope so. I've loved writing this (no matter how long it's taken) so please, please, please enjoy and please, please, please leave a review if the fancy takes you :)
Rachel's parties were becoming legendary in Glee club. Each one found more of the Glee member's deepest, darkest secrets being revealed and Kurt always thanked each and every deity the morning after for not dragging him into the madness.
Tomorrow morning may be different, however.
Kurt was lying on his back across the stage in Rachel's basement, holding her gaudy, bedazzled microphone above his mouth and attempting to sing in a sober manner. When he realised his objective was unachievable, he dropped his arm by his side and let the microphone roll out of his hand and off the stage. As it hit the floor, there was a high pitched squeal from the speakers and Kurt slapped his hands over his ears, giggling like a maniac. He rolled onto his side to apologise to everyone and his face fell. All the other occupants of the room were asleep on various surfaces and he couldn't see Rachel anywhere.
"Oh, is the party over?"
"Apparently so."
Kurt jumped at the unexpected reply and scrambled to sit up on the stage. He blinked blearily and squinted to see across the other side of the room by the stairs and his eyes were greeted with a pair of muscular, denim clad legs. He followed the legs upwards and a wide grin broke onto his face as he recognised the boy leaning against the wall.
"BLAINE!"
"Kurt," Blaine smiled. "Having fun?"
"I was. But everyone else has died." Kurt pouted and Blaine chuckled with a shake of his head.
"They're not dead. They're passed out."
"Either way, they're being no fun," Kurt huffed. He crossed his arms across his chest and glared at the heaps of bodies sprawled around. Blaine laughed again and pushed himself away from the wall. Kurt cocked his head to the side as Blaine moved towards him. "Have you seen Rachel?"
"Yeah. I carried her upstairs about five minutes ago. There's a chance she'll be less cranky in the morning if she wakes up in her own bed." Blaine was stood in front of Kurt now and Kurt craned his neck to look up at him.
"I doubt it."
"It's worth a try," Blaine shrugged. "Anyway, I came back down to see if you needed help getting up there too. You usually crash in Rachel's bed. I distinctly remember you lecturing everyone on how carpeted floor will murder your skin last time." Kurt flushed.
"It's true. This," Kurt pointed at himself with both index fingers, "doesn't come naturally."
"I'm sure you look gorgeous no matter what," Blaine commented, reaching out a hand. "Come on, I'll help you up." Kurt slapped his own hands flat against the stage and shook his head.
"I can get up myself, thank you." Blaine retracted his hand and stepped back, gesturing at the space in front of him. Kurt uncrossed his legs, put his feet flat on the floor and pushed himself up. He made a sound of triumph as he rose to his feet. Blaine watched with amusement, raising an eyebrow as Kurt stood in front of him then promptly began to sway from side to side. He gripped Kurt's elbows and tried to steady him. Kurt shook his hands off, stretched his own arms out and closed his eyes.
"What are you doing?"
"Balancing," Kurt stated as if it was obvious, opening one eye. He burst into giggles at Blaine's bemused expression and fell forward, grabbing onto Blaine's shoulders and resting his forehead on one of his hands. Blaine held Kurt's biceps and pushed him back a little. He ducked his head to try and catch Kurt's gaze.
"I'll give you props that you got yourself up, but I don't think you can get up two flights of stairs on your own without breaking something."
"M'fine," Kurt grumbled, half-heartedly punching at Blaine's chest then quickly gripping his shoulder again as he felt himself falling again. "Okay, I'm not fine. Lead the way." Blaine stood to the side, bent over a little and started to slide one arm behind Kurt's knees. Kurt flailed and widened his eyes at the back of Blaine's head. "What are you doing!" Blaine straightened up.
"Carrying you."
"What!" Kurt choked, tipping backwards.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Blaine put one arm around Kurt's waist and held him up. "That is why I'm carrying you," Blaine said as he bent down again, keeping his arm around Kurt's waist and hooking the other behind Kurt's knees and scooping him up. Kurt yelped and flung his arms around Blaine's neck. Blaine grinned and adjusted Kurt in his arms. "Comfortable?" There faces were close as Blaine turned his head and Kurt simply blinked at him and smiled.
"You're pretty."
"You're drunk," Blaine countered.
"That will change. You're always pretty," Kurt stated firmly. Blaine watched Kurt's eyes twinkle and briefly dipped his gaze to his lips. Kurt's eyes were the same when he looked back up. Fixed on him and oh so beautiful. Blaine swallowed.
"So are you." He knew he shouldn't have said it. Not when Kurt was crazy drunk. Not when Kurt wouldn't remember it and God, did Blaine want him to remember it. He coughed lightly and turned his whole body, walking towards the stairs and carefully stepping over discarded cups and stray limbs. Kurt's head lolled to the side as they moved, his forehead resting against Blaine's neck. Blaine bit his lip as he climbed the stairs, trying to ignore the feel of Kurt's breath ticking across his collarbone.
"I probably could've done this on my own," Kurt muttered, nudging the tip of his nose against the juncture between Blaine's jaw and neck. Blaine subconsciously leant into the touch and snapped his head back up as his eyes began to slip closed.
"Better safe than sorry," he croaked, clearing his throat afterwards and mentally chanting "Rachel's best friend and I'm her brother. Rachel's best friend and I'm her brother. Rachel's best friend and I'm her brother." He continued on through the house, climbing the second set of stairs and bumping his hip against Rachel's bedroom door when they reached it. He groaned as he stepped inside. Mercedes was also in the room, spread eagled on the bed while Rachel was curled up in one corner, hugging a pillow to her chest. Kurt narrowed his eyes at them.
"Now that's just not fair. First the party stops and no-one bothers to tell me and now they're having a sleepover without me."
"I don't think they did it on purpose," Blaine reasoned. Kurt sighed.
"Where am I supposed to sleep now?"
"Is the floor really that bad for one night?" Blaine knew it was a stupid question when Kurt slapped the back of his head.
"What part of 'this doesn't come naturally' do you not understand?"
"Sorry, sorry," Blaine chuckled. "You're only option is to try-" He stopped as he looked at Kurt who was beaming. "What?"
"I can sleep in your bed."
Blaine's jaw fell open slightly.
"Kurt, I don't think-"
"It's perfect," Kurt squealed. "Your beds about the same size as Rachel's right?" Blaine nodded, mouth still gaping. "We can both fit in there." Kurt's drink-addled mind had convinced him his solution was brilliant and Blaine's restraint melted away as Kurt nodded eagerly, smile still plastered on his face.
"Uh, I suppose we could do that."
"I'm so clever," Kurt breathed, tightening his arms around Blaine's neck. Blaine couldn't help but laugh at Kurt's words while he awkwardly pulled Rachel's door shut. He kicked open the door to his own room and stood in the doorway. Kurt nodded towards the bed. "Come on. Bed. That's where sleeping happens. Unless you've learnt how to sleep standing up since I last saw you."
"You never know," Blaine said with an air of mystery. Kurt raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him. "Yeah, I haven't, but the point stands." Blaine stepped into his room and placed Kurt down on the bed.
"What has changed since I last saw you?"
"Nothing," Blaine shrugged, moving around the other side of the bed and opening the middle drawer of his dresser to throw a pair of sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt onto the bed behind him. He hesitated before shutting the drawer. "Do you want to borrow some pyjamas?"
"Wearing ankle-bearing trousers isn't really my thing," Kurt said with a giggle as he leant back against Blaine's headboard, placed a cushion in his lap and picked at the threads on it with deep concentration. Blaine shot him a playful glare and shut the drawer. He picked up the pyjamas and gestured at the door.
"I'll just get changed."
"'Kay," Kurt mumbled, still interested in the cushion's thread count. Blaine left the room and headed for the bathroom. He locked himself in, got changed and took a few deep breaths before going back to his room.
"He's drunk. Just remember that. He's drunk and now is not the time for confessions," he said to himself before turning the door handle and padding along the hall back to his room. He faltered as he entered, a smile creeping onto his face. Kurt was sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, the duvet curled around his body and thrown over his head.
"Hey, Blaine! I'm a nun!" Kurt bounced on the bed, bobbing his head from side to side. Blaine shut the door and crawled onto the bed, sitting back on his heels.
"I see that."
"I could be in The Sound Of Music! Doe, a deer, a female deer! RAY-" Blaine shuffled forward and clamped a hand over Kurt's mouth. Kurt blinked up at him and licked his hand. Blaine whipped it away and made a noise of disgust.
"Kurt!"
"No-one silences Kurt Hummel mid-song."
"Well I just did," Blaine retorted.
"Not for long," Kurt sing-songed, taking a deep breath, ready to start singing again. Blaine wiped his spit covered palm on his sheet.
"Can you be a nun, quietly?"
"I distinctly remember the nuns in The Sound of Music being loud. And musical. Therefore I will be loud and musical," Kurt said matter of factly with a jut of his chin.
"How about you stop being a nun altogether?" Blaine suggested hopefully. Kurt seemed to consider the idea then shook his head violently. Blaine placed his hands on Kurt's cheeks and stopped the movement. "Don't make yourself dizzy. I don't need you passing out or being sick."
"Bleh. Sickness." Blaine nodded in agreement and took his hands away from Kurt's face. Kurt dropped the duvet off his head and let it sag behind him.
"Ah, you're done being a nun now?"
"It was prayer time. I'm not a fan."
"I think taking part in prayer time is required of a nun," Blaine chuckled, settling himself down opposite Kurt.
"I definitely quit then," Kurt said with a single, firm nod.
"Good call." Kurt then promptly flung the duvet from his shoulders and fell backwards onto it, kicking his legs out so he was stretched along the bed. He patted the space next to him and Blaine crawled over to it, sitting next to Kurt's head and shoulders.
"No, lie down," Kurt said with an eye roll.
"Uh-"
"Blaine," Kurt growled. "Lie. Down." Blaine complied and folded his arms underneath his head. There was a comfortable silence between the two until Kurt spoke.
"Ceiling watching isn't as fun as cloud watching." Blaine hummed in response. "Nothing changes."
"It's a ceiling," Blaine deadpanned. "What do you expect?"
"More than this. This is a boring ceiling." Kurt waved angrily at the ceiling. "Get a better ceiling."
"I'm sorry. I'll make sure I install a fully automated laser show for next time."
"Good," Kurt grinned. "I expect nothing less."
"You're such a demanding drunk," Blaine said exasperatedly.
"I'm naturally ambitious," Kurt corrected.
"About my ceiling!" Blaine rolled his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. Kurt did the same and they spent a while trying to stare each other down. Kurt eventually gave in.
"Okay, forget the ceiling. Tell me what's new with you. Rachel is terribly vague when I ask. You'd think she'd know more than 'He's at college. He's studying music.'"
"Like I said earlier: Nothing." Blaine went back to looking up at the ceiling.
"It's college, Blaine. Come on, tell me about the parties, the friends… the boys." Kurt poked persistently at Blaine's stomach, causing him to squirm.
"Okay, okay, jeez," Blaine giggled. Kurt grinned triumphantly. "The parties are… a blur. The friends are nice, but nothing like the guys at Dalton. The people at college are brilliant, but The Warblers are…"
"Your homies?" Kurt offered, making a vaguely gangster-like gesture. Blaine stopped his hand moving.
"No. Well, yes, but I wouldn't use the term 'homies.'"
"Your all bros."
"Stop with that," Blaine laughed.
"Fine," Kurt huffed in mock-anger. "Tell me about the boys then." Blaine coughed awkwardly and grumbled under his breath. "What?" Kurt frowned.
"I said, 'What boys?'"
"The gorgeous college boys who have undoubtedly been falling over each other to get to you," Kurt said casually.
"Oh them. They're around." Kurt perked up. "Just not near me."
"Blaine, have you ever had a boyfriend?"
"Wow, personal question." Blaine grabbed a cushion and thwacked it against Kurt's stomach. Kurt groaned dramatically and shoved it away.
"Just answer the question." Blaine remained silent. "Hey, it's okay if you haven't. I haven't either." Blaine hugged the pillow against his chest.
"I've never had one."
"Weird," Kurt thought out loud, eyeing Blaine up. Blaine hit him with the pillow again. "I didn't mean it like that. Stop hitting me," Kurt whined.
"Stop being an arse," Blaine said as he hit him again. Kurt growled and grabbed his own pillow to smack into Blaine's face. "HEY!"
"You started it," Kurt smirked. He squealed as Blaine began to hit him repeatedly. He held his hands up over his face and kicked at Blaine's calves. "I get it, I get it. You win." Blaine stopped and collapsed onto the bed to lay flat again.
"Age beats beauty."
"You have both of those. You must be having a constant internal conflict," Kurt said with a fake edge of seriousness.
"You might only have age, actually. My mistake." Blaine slapped at Kurt's hand when he punched his arm.
"I retract my earlier statement about you being pretty."
"No fair," Blaine pouted. "I returned that with equal enthusiasm."
"Bullshit," Kurt said flatly. "You stared at me dreamily for five minutes before replying." Blaine choked and hoped his cheeks weren't burning as hot as he felt. He didn't refute Kurt's statement, however. Kurt smirked up at the ceiling, then turned his head to Blaine with a frown.
"Are we flirting?"
"What is with you and blunt questions today?" Blaine chuckled.
"I'm direct," Kurt explained quickly. "Are we flirting?"
"Would it be weird if we were?" Blaine asked cautiously, avoiding Kurt's gaze.
"Why woul-"
"I'm Rachel's brother."
"Like that's stopped me for the past 2 years," Kurt snorted. Blaine's eyes widened and he swallowed before exhaling heavily. He should stop this conversation. He should remember that Kurt is drunk and that now is not the time for confessions but the question had passed his lips before he could stop it.
"Stopped you what?"
"Liking you, idiot." Kurt said it so casually, Blaine was gunning for him meaning he liked him as a friend. "Oh wait, understatement. Rephrase that to: Falling ridiculously in love with you, idiot." Blaine closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands. "Oh, hey, what's wrong?"
"You're drunk," Blaine said simply, rubbing at his temples.
"We established that."
"Kurt, you're insanely drunk and…"
"Aaaand?" Kurt drawled. Blaine let out a ragged breath.
"And I didn't want the first time you told me you loved me to be like this." He kept his face hidden and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the tears wouldn't fall. Kurt leant up one elbow and eyed him curiously then flushed as he realised that that is exactly what he'd said.
"Oh God. I'm so sorry."
Blaine removed his hands from his face and pushed himself to a sitting position, facing Kurt.
"Don't apologise."
"Blaine, I shouldn't have…"
"Don't apologise," Blaine repeated, "unless you didn't mean it," he mumbled. Kurt opened and shut his mouth a few times, searching for an answer. His brain was a buzz and a blur of drunkenly spoken words and he closed his eyes and shook his head to try and clear it. "You didn't mean it." Blaine spoke in barely a whisper and Kurt opened his eyes to see him curling in on himself and hugging his knees to chest. Kurt still couldn't quite work out the exact gravity of this situation but his heart broke at the sight in front of him.
"Blaine," he breathed.
"No. Drunken mistake. I get it." Blaine tried to force an understanding smile but he knew even with Kurt in this state, he'd see through it. Kurt got up onto his knees and placed a tentative hand between them on the bed. Blaine had his chin on his knees and was staring blankly at Kurt's chest.
"Blaine, I'm still playing on the side of stupidly drunk but…" Kurt let out a small laugh. "This is so not how I imagined this moment to go." Blaine focused his eyes and furrowed his brow at Kurt.
"You…?"
"You know me and my plans," Kurt smiled. "Dinner. A movie. All the clichés."
"You," Blaine said again, blinking dumbly. Kurt ran a hand over his face.
"Blaine, I've been in lo-"
"NO." Blaine waved his hands frantically then placed one over Kurt's between them. "Please don't say it again. Not like this." He got on his knees too and took both of Kurt's hands in his, looking at him pleadingly. "Not while your drunk, please. Not when I can't trust every word. Not when you won't remember it. You'll…" Blaine's voice cracked and he closed his eyes with a deep breath. He slid his eyes open a minute or so later and silently begged Kurt to do as he asked. Kurt held back tears and squeezed Blaine's hands.
"Okay."
"Thank you," Blaine said with relief, sagging his shoulders. "Thank you."
"Just promise me one thing. We'll talk in the morning. If I don't remember anything, remind me. Promise me you'll remind me."
"Kurt, if it isn't the same… if you don't feel- …It'll break my heart, Kurt. I'll break." Blaine choked over the last words. He ducked his head and wiped a stray tear on his shoulder. Kurt shuffled forward, cautiously placed a hand at the nape of Blaine's neck and pressed a kiss into his hair.
"It'll be the same. It's always been the same." He rubbed his thumb over Blaine's skin and repeated his words. Blaine sniffed lightly and rested a hand on Kurt's thigh, just above his knee.
"Can we sleep? We'll talk tomorrow. I just…"
"Yeah," Kurt whispered as he pulled back and put a bit of space between them. He watched Blaine press the heels of his palms against his eyes and once he finished, they silently put the bed to rights and settled down. Kurt blinked into the darkness when Blaine flicked the bedside lamp off and he listened for a long while to Blaine get comfortable and his breathing steadying as he drifted into sleep. He rolled onto his side to face Blaine's back and hovered a hand over his shoulder. "No," he muttered as he pulled it away. "Enough for tonight." He curled into a ball and shut his eyes. "Enough."
Kurt opened an eye slowly as he began to wake. He then regretted his decision and rolled over to bury his face into the pillow. That also turned out to be the wrong decision as he went crashing to the floor, dragging half the duvet with him. He groaned and sat up to twist his arm around and rub at his back.
"I swear these floors are made of concrete," he grumbled, still squinting his eyes against the light.
"No, just seriously strong wood," a voice replied through a yawn. Kurt froze and suddenly became very aware of his surroundings.
"This isn't my room."
"Unless you've moved in, no."
Kurt got to his feet, stumbling slightly over the duvet, and held a hand over his forehead with his eyes closed.
"Did someone punch me last night? Really hard?"
Blaine curled himself around the small corner of duvet he was holding on the bed and grimaced sympathetically up at Kurt.
"Alcohol doesn't agree with you, huh?"
"Does it agree with anyone?" Kurt groaned. He climbed back onto the bed and sat cross-legged against the headboard, pulling the duvet back up as he went. "Sorry."
"For what?" Blaine yawned, leaning up on an elbow and resting his head in his palm. Kurt gestured vaguely at the duvet. "Oh, that. It's fine. I got a bit of amusement out of watching you topple to the floor."
"Don't mock me." Kurt shoved weakly at Blaine's shoulder. "It's too early and I'm too hungover."
"You have no one to blame but yourself," Blaine sing-songed with a grin as Kurt glared at him with as much ferocity as a hungover boy could. It still could have cut diamonds.
"You sound like Rachel."
"Now that was uncalled for."
Kurt smirked, flopped his head back against the wall and ran his hands over his face and down the sides of his neck to link his fingers together at his nape. Blaine watched with interest. He shook his head, slightly in awe of how Kurt can even make hungover look fabulous. He considered mentioning it until one of Kurt's thumbs idly flicked at his collar and his head shot up, eyes wide.
"I'm still in the same clothes." He dropped his arms to his sides and sighed heavily. "I am gross."
"Firstly, your not gross. And secondly, I did offer you pyjamas."
"You did?" Kurt frowned. Blaine nodded.
"You told me that wearing ankle bearing clothing wasn't your thing."
"Oh, wow. That was rude. Sorry."
"Not a problem," Blaine smiled. "I'm used to it. I just like to remember that good things come in small packages." Kurt arched an eyebrow at him. Blaine flushed at his unintentional innuendo. "You know what I mean."
"Anyway… next time make sure I take the pyjamas. Dress me yourself if you have to."
"Next time?" Blaine chuckled. Kurt rolled his eyes.
"To repeat you: You know what I mean. If by some weird chain of events this happens again, give me the pyjamas." Kurt's brow furrowed and he eyed Blaine curiously. Blaine squirmed under his gaze.
"What?"
"Why am I in here?"
Blaine grinned and shuffled further up the bed to sit up and face Kurt.
"Well."
"Oh my God, there's a whole story isn't there?"
"It's a good one."
"For you, maybe," Kurt mumbled. "Go on then. Humiliate me."
Blaine opened his mouth and the story ready to vibrate his vocal chords and form on his tongue and against his teeth was cut short as Rachel swung his bedroom door open.
"Thank God," she breathed, collapsing against the doorframe. "I woke up and you weren't there, Kurt. You always sleep in my room and you weren't there and I went to check downstairs and you weren't there either. I thought maybe you'd gone home but Finn's car was still here and he drove you so I started to panic. I looked everywhere. I didn't even think of looking in here until about two seconds ago and you're here." She held a hand to her chest and took a few deep breaths. "You're here."
"Morning, Rachel." Blaine waved lamely at her. At the sound of his voice, Rachel's gaze zeroed in on him.
"When did you get home?"
"Last night," Blaine frowned. "I carried you up to your room."
"Oh yeah, you did didn't you? Thanks."
"Anytime," Blaine nodded. Rachel returned her attention to Kurt.
"What are you doing in here?"
Kurt was too hungover to notice the knowing look in Rachel's eyes as she flicked them between the boys.
"Blaine was about to tell me but you have impeccable timing as usual and stopped him before he could start."
Rachel considered them for a moment then shrugged.
"Oh well. Doesn't matter. Finn wants to head home so you need to grab your stuff."
Kurt nodded and began to climb off the bed.
"Erm. Is he okay to drive?" Blaine asked Rachel cautiously.
"Yeah, he didn't drink anything."
"Okay, good."
"Aww, you're getting all protective big brother over my friends now too," Rachel said with a face normally reserved for cooing over children. Blaine shot her a glare.
"I just don't want K- anyone getting hurt." He cleared his throat and hoped that neither Rachel or Kurt (especially Kurt) hadn't heard his slip up. The smirk on Rachel's face told him she had. Kurt seemed none the wiser as he slipped on his boots on. He stood and held out his arms to balance himself.
"Jesus. Remind me to never drink again."
Blaine froze and took in a sharp breath. Remind me. Promise me you'll remind me.
"Everyone always says that," Rachel sighed, ushering him from the room as he bid thanks and goodbye to Blaine with a lingering gaze. Blaine hummed a vague reply and Rachel continued as her and Kurt made their way down the stairs. "And I can guarantee that the same people will drink just as much next time."
It'll be the same. It's always been the same.
Blaine took in a shuddering breath and lifted his gaze to his now empty doorway.
"Kurt," he said brokenly, blinking at the now meaningless space. He scrambled off the bed and flew down the stairs, two at a time, weaving past furniture to skid through the hallway and bump into Rachel's back as she shut the front door.
"Jeez," she hissed, turning and gripping Blaine's arms to steady him. He looked between the door and Rachel.
"Kurt…"
"Just left," Rachel finished, letting go of him. "Did he forget something?"
Blaine swallowed heavily and felt his heart drop into his stomach.
"Yeah. He forgot."
"Forgot what?" Rachel asked slowly, concern lacing her tone.
Kurt's voice bounced around Blaine's skull once more: It'll be the same. It's always been the same. He listened and remembered the smell of alcohol that had accompanied it. The smell of alcohol that hovers around lies and mistaken words.
"He just… forgot."
"Did something happen between you and Blaine?"
Kurt didn't look up from his work.
"When?"
"At my house. On Friday."
Kurt considered her question while still copying out notes.
"No."
"Are you sure?"
Now he stopped. He lifted his head to meet her gaze across the table.
"Absolutely."
Rachel leant back in her chair and drummed her fingers on the tabletop.
"Hmm."
"What?" Kurt sighed.
"He crashed into me when I was shutting the door after you and Finn had gone home and he just looked at me and said 'Kurt.' When I asked if you'd forgot something he said yes. I asked for more and he said…"
"Said…"
"'He just… forgot.' Word for word, that's what he said. 'He just… forgot.' And he spent the weekend in his room, barely talking to anyone."
Kurt frowned and rattled his brain for a memory of anything out of the ordinary happening between them. There was something pushing at the very edges of his conscious mind, something he hadn't been able to recall but he ignored it.
"Nope," he eventually shrugged. "No idea."
"Ugh, okay. Thanks anyway."
And just like that, she dropped it. Kurt picked it up.
Blaine turned off the TV and threw the remote aimlessly onto the sofa beside him as the front door began to rattle against a tirade of knocking. The noise stopped and Blaine closed his eyes in hope they'd gone. They hadn't. He considered ignoring them in favour of laziness but the person outside showed no signs of leaving anytime soon. With a heavy sigh, and low growl in his throat, he pushed himself off the sofa and trudged towards the door. He ran a hand through his hair and looked himself over, groaning at his disheveled state before opening the door.
"You'll be pa-mmph."
Blaine stumbled backwards and slammed his eyes shut as someone collided with his front, cupped his face and pressed their mouths together. He grabbed at air until he found fabric covered biceps and twisted his fingers into the material, leaning up into the clash of teeth, the slide of tongues.
"I didn't mean to forget. I didn't want to forget."
Blaine panted over the lips that spoke against his own and his heart stuttered at the voice.
"Kurt."
"I didn't want to forget," Kurt repeated in a whisper, still framing Blaine's face with his hands, holding them together. "God, Blaine, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Blaine tightened his grip on Kurt's shirt.
"Kurt."
"Tell me I didn't break you. Tell me I didn't break your heart." Kurt paused and smoothed his thumbs over Blaine's cheekbones. "Please."
Blaine swallowed but his words still came out hoarse. Broken.
"You were close."
Kurt kissed him again, chaste and quick.
"I'm sorry." Another kiss. "So sorry." And another. "Do you trust me, Blaine?" Blaine nodded once, loosening his white-knuckle grip on undoubtedly expensive cotton and running his hands along Kurt's arms to curl his fingers around his wrists. "Will you hear me now when you couldn't the other night?"
"Kurt-"
"I'll never be able to say it again. If I don't now… If I run away now, my own heart will break knowing I hurt you."
"I'll listen." Blaine mostly mouthed the words. Only a flicker of sound came with them but Kurt heard. Heard and replied.
"I love you."
Blaine squeezed his eyes shut tighter than they already were, pushing a tear out that trailed slowly down his cheek. He pulled Kurt closer to nuzzle into the crook of his neck and splay his hands across his back. He laughed into Kurt's skin and opened his eyes to hook his chin over Kurt's shoulder.
"I love you so ridiculously much."
Kurt laughed too and slid his arms over Blaine's shoulders, resting the sides of their heads together.
"So ridiculously much."
*is dead* Reviews will quite literally help me survive.