Tina, feeling vaguely as though Rachel letting her stay over means she should do something to help clean up, finishes screwing the caps back on all the bottles while the other girls drag themselves toward the furniture.
"Well. I think this went well," Rachel says collapsing onto the couch. "Lots of material. Jealousy and lust and booze and falertin-fratnen- hanging out with the enemy."
"The enemy?" Santana demands.
"Blaine. Blaine…Warbler," Rachel supplies.
"Well, if Kurt's hobbit boy-toy is the enemy, then so is Kurt," Santana reasons, flopping down next to Rachel.
"I miss Kurt," Mercedes sighs.
"Me too," Tina agrees, giving up on cleaning and going over to her friends. "Did you see the black leather tie he rocked tonight? There's no one else you can borrow that sort of thing from."
"I miss having someone around who tries to out bitch me, and calls Mr. Shue out," Santana admits.
"I can't believe we lost our counter tenor to an acapella outfit that has yet to feature him on lead vocal."
They gave her a look.
"And it sucks that just because of some, hulking, illiterate neanderthal like Karofsky, Kurt has to transfer to a whole different school," Rachel amends.
"It's not just having him at a different school," Mercedes continues, "I never get to hang out with him anymore. He's always with Blaine, he even brought him to a New Direction's party. And even when we do hang out now he's… less Kurt-like. I miss his attitude. Dalton has de-sassed him."
"Are he and Blaine-" Tina started, but Santana cut her off immediately.
"Uh. No," Santana snorted, "Did you see Blaine tonight? The boy could teach classes on virginity. There is nothing going on there, even though Kurt's clearly spent all day everyday throwing himself at Gay-y McEyebrows in betweens Charms Class and Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Did you just make a Harry Potter joke?" Tina asks blurrily. That doesn't seem anywhere near Santana's alley.
"What? I read. Plus that Radcliffe boy is totally smoking'" Santana shrugs.
"You're just pissed because your Ken Doll tried to suck his face off," Mercedes tells her.
"Believe me, I know what a hopeless crush looks like. It's the way the entire freshman class looks at me. And Sam's not gay, he's just sweet and stupid."
"Sweet and Stupid is your type," Tina nods.
"I know," Santana sighs, "Sorry Rachel."
Rachel's not listening. She's humming something Tina doesn't recognize to herself.
"Looks like we lost Rachel," Mercedes notes.
"You're about to lose me too, I aints sleeping on no couch. I'm going up to her dads' room." Santana lurches off the couch, staggering slightly as she moves toward the stairs.
Tina and Mercedes follow her, both seeing the logic in not sleeping on a couch when there are empty beds.
Mercedes ducks into Rachel's astonishingly pink room, and Tina continues to follow Santana down the hallway.
"Do you know where there room is?"
"It's at the end of the hall. This is the same layout as my house," Santana yawns, "Gotta love them 'burbs."
She pulls open a door and ushers Tina into a more lavishly decorated room than Tina has ever seen outside of a Martha Stewart magazine. The bed has a canopy and everything is dark green.
"Wow," Tina says.
"Should've seen this coming from people who redesigned their basement for Oscar parties," Santana says, yanking back the covers and falling heavily into bed without even taking off her earrings.
Tina follows, crawling in on the other side of the huge bed.
"Hey Santana?"
"What?" Santana snaps.
"Thanks for breaking up Britney and Mike… you know, when they were kissing? I know it was just a game… but still. It was a little-"
"Don't even worry about it," Santana murmured. "I gots yo back Tanya."
Tina shook her head and decided to let it go. Santana seemed to be sobering up a little, but there was no reason to call her out on what was clearly a lie, or on the fact that she didn't remember Tina's name and risk having her flip out over whatever was actually bothering her.
"Thanks," Tina said. Santana made a sleepy noise of agreement.
XXX
Kurt woke up tired. For as much time as he had spent fantasizing about sleeping with a boy- okay, honestly, Finn- in his bed, he hadn't managed to account for any of the realities of it, like how hard it was to sleep when someone was snoring, and talking gibberish in their sleep. On top of that Blaine had tossed and turned through most of the night, constantly waking Kurt up.
Kurt considered just trying to back to sleep again, but he hadn't gotten used to his new, non-subterranean room yet, and it was just too bright for him to roll over and try to get anymore sleep. He rubbed his eyes, grabbed his robe and went to shower.
He really, really hoped that Blaine didn't remember last night. I want to kiss you. Of all the stupid shit to have said. And that wasn't even the worst thing. What if Blaine was horrified that he'd tried to kiss Kurt, or so embarrassed by this new evidence that he was , as he'd said, "no good at romance" that he freaked out? Or what if he was worried that this type of thing is exactly what would screw their friendship up, and they stopped having these perfect, flirty little moments that, pathetic or not, Kurt lived on, and played over and over again in his mind.
He got out of the shower and headed back to his room, where Blaine had managed to wrap himself further into the covers. Kurt suddenly worried how hung over Blaine might be. Blaine had only met Carol and his father once, and had barely spoken to them. He wasn't sure what he'd do if he ended up spending the morning apologizing for Blaine throwing up on something. He didn't want his dad to think that the guy he had been hanging out with was some sort of insane drinking, partying, irresponsible freak. Kurt dithered for a moment before deciding that there wasn't anything he'd be able to do about it before Blaine woke up anyway, and that he may as well be ready for the day. He went to his vanity and started working on his skin.
"Kurt!"
Kurt jumped, pulled out of his thoughts on what to do if Blaine did wake up sick.
"What the hell's a shirred egg? Is that like a scrambled egg?"
His dad burst through the door in exactly the way Kurt had told him not to. Kurt just sighed and continued moisturizing.
"Hey, come on, today's the day you're supposed to teach me about brunch."
Kurt pops his head around the corner. "I'll be right down."
His father looks shocked, and that's when Blaine wakes up.
"Where am I?" Blaine mutters.
Kurt's relief that Blaine doesn't remember what happened is instantly killed by the expression on his father's face as he excuses himself and backs out the of the room.
Oh shit.
XXX
Short chapter, but more coming.
