Hi! With 'Endland' coming to an end (see what I did there?), I thought I'd start posting a new story for the GleeBlast 2016. This one's based on the idea that Blaine wants to "make art and help people", and also on the idea that it's a lot easier to get married in Las Vegas than it actually is. Please ignore any inaccuracies for the sake of the story!
Short first chapter, but I have more if you want. Let me know!

Blaine opens one eye. It's a bad idea. He closes it again.

About an hour later, he tries again. One eye first, then, cautiously, the second. The light still hurts, and he contemplates just going to sleep again, but now he kind of wants to know where he is.

He's in an unfamiliar room, but he remembers checking into a hotel yesterday, so that's okay. The curtains are drawn, but there is enough light hurting his eyes and his head that he knows it's at least midday, maybe later. The carpet is gray, the curtains have a drab floral pattern that matches that of the bedspread that is lying in a corner.

He's lying in a bed, which is good. Everything hurts, his head most of all. He guesses that he got really spectacularly drunk last night. Which isn't something he does, and it's certainly not what he came to Vegas for. He came here for...for...

He shifts on the bed, and winces. The thing that hurts most, apart from his head, is his ass. Which is weird.

There is an arm stretched across him, which at least accounts for the pressure on his chest. The arm is pale and slightly hairy. His chest is naked.

Crap.

He pokes the arm until its owner grunts and moves. Without looking at him, Blaine asks,

"Did I cheat on my boyfriend with you?"

"No."

Oh. That's good then. He closes his eyes again until he notices that something doesn't add up. He shifts again just to test it, and regrets it the moment the pain flares up again.

"Um -"

The voice sighs and says, "Your boyfriend dumped you over the phone last night. Which is the reason for the probably magnificent hangover you are having right now."

Right. He knows that. The pressure on his chest isn't just the stranger's arm that is still draped over him, it's also the fact that his heart is broken. Again. It's a wonder he isn't used to it yet.

The arm moves. The hand has long fingers with well-groomed nails. On one of the fingers sits a plain, probably white gold ring. Blaine stares at the ring for a long time until he realizes what it means.

"You cheated," he says accusingly, careful not to raise his voice. His head still hurts.

"I didn't," the voice says. "I'm single on principle. I have no time for dating."

"You're wearing a wedding ring," Blaine points out. Maybe he is wearing one to discourage people from hitting on him, if he doesn't like dating. Blaine is a little proud of his reasoning.

The arm disappears from his chest, presumably because the owner looks at the ring.

"Um," he says.

The mattress moves, and Blaine feels slightly nauseous. Only slightly, though. He is proud of that, too.

The stranger rises, and now Blaine just has to look. He catches a short glimpse on his face, which looks tired and slightly disgruntled, but somehow familiar. At least he hasn't forgotten everything.

He shifts again, wishing he'd remember that. It seems such a waste to hook up with a stranger and then not even remember the sex. Although...maybe it doesn't feel so much like cheating because he doesn't remember it.

Then he gets distracted by said stranger's body. Which is...nice. Pale and freckled, muscular but slim. Long legs, a...now he bends over to retrieve a piece of clothing from the floor, and that is a really, really nice ass.

The man puts on a pair of briefs, then puts a hand on his ass and grimaces.

"What did we do last night?"

"You too? Me too," Blaine says. He still doesn't feel up to moving, or he'd go look into the trash can to count condoms. If they used condoms. God, he hopes they used condoms.

The stranger vanishes into the bathroom, but returns in a moment with a glass of water and two aspirin, which he hands Blaine.

"Thanks," Blaine says gratefully. As he takes the glass and the pills, he notices a ring gleaming on his own finger. It's plain and white gold. He doesn't own a ring like that.

"Could you maybe call room service for coffee?" the stranger asks. "I'm going to take a shower, and then...we should talk. And I really think we need coffee for that."

Blaine doesn't want to talk. He wants to sleep another seventeen hours and then go back home, grovel to Sebastian to take him back and forget this ever happened. But there's the fact that the stranger has a ring on his finger that matches the ring on his own, and while the implications are too weird to fathom right now - yes, they should talk.

So he calls for coffee, a lot of coffee, and then slowly moves out of bed, picks up his clothes from all over the room and gets dressed. He feels gross and would like a shower, but he isn't sure he won't barf or pass out if he tries to stand for more than a minute. In addition to that, the shower is occupied, and he doesn't feel intimate enough with the man in it to just join him, no matter what they did last night. After all, he doesn't even know his name.

"Kurt Hummel," he says when the man returns from the shower, in very stylish if slightly disheveled clothes (the top button of his shirt is missing. God, he really wishes he would remember), carefully styled hair and in full front view. There is no doubt, he recognizes him at once.

"You're Kurt Hummel," he says again.

"You remember?" Kurt asks. "Because I'm sure you called my name at various points last night..."

"No," Blaine says, blushing. "I mean, probably. But...you're Kurt Hummel. I saw you three times in your last play. I couldn't get tickets for last night's show, but - you're one of the reasons I came here for."

"You're a fan?" Kurt says, smiling, flattered.

"I slept with Kurt Hummel," Blaine says. He wants to tell Sebastian, who always makes fun of him for what he calls his "crush" on the famous actor. But he can't. It's cheating, it's like cheating even if they're not together right now, but they're always not together at some point, that doesn't mean he can just sleep around like it's nothing.

"That you did," Kurt agrees. He answers the door, tips the waiter and takes the coffee, then hands one to Blaine. Hesitantly, he sits on his side of the bed again, leaning against the headboard, his long legs stretched out before him. Quietly, he says,

"It also seems you married Kurt Hummel."

Slowly, Blaine nods. He wants to deny it, but there's the matching rings, and also...there's a small stack of papers on his nightstand, a little crumpled and at one place with a stain of...something. But on the top, it says "Marriage Certificate", and on the bottom, there are both their signatures. He hands the papers over to Kurt, who studies them and sighs.

"Do you remember anything?" he asks, and Blaine reluctantly nods. A few memories have come up since he's awake, none of them good, and unfortunately still nothing about the sex.

"I came to talk to you after the show, about getting involved in the foundation," he says, glancing at Kurt, who nods. "You weren't...very nice to me in the beginning, but then you seemed interested, and we talked for a while at the bar. Then I got a phone call from Sebastian, calling me to break up with me and to tell me he was already living with the guy he replaced me with."

He stifles a sob, and sees from the corner of his eye how Kurt shakes his head at him. That brings up another memory, one that actually makes him smile.

"You called him a lot of...choice words, and told me not to cry, and proceeded to get drunk with me. And then, somehow, at some point, it seemed like a really good idea to take you upstairs. There's not much after that, unfortunately."

"We had sex," Kurt says, stating the obvious. "There are...four used condoms in the trash here, and one in the bathroom. I don't know how we even did that."

"And I can't remember any of it," Blaine says. "You?"

Kurt shakes his head. "It must have been really good if we wanted to do it that often, though."

They are silent. It is awkward, but good for his head. He fiddles with his cup while Kurt tears one of the paper napkins that came with the coffee in tiny pieces.

Blaine remembers something. He remembers Sebastian cheating on him, and afterwards, to make up for it and to show that despite everything he gets on the side, he's really with Blaine, proposing marriage. He remembers saying no, which made Sebastian sulk for days and now say that he's dodged a bullet whenever he's pissed with Blaine. He remembers why he said no.

"Um," he says. "I can't get divorced."