Thanks so much for all the responses guys! You too invisible readers - i see youu! xD

without much ado, heres part 2!

What the actual fuck.

There Blaine had been, feeling sick to the stomach with alcohol whilst thinking about Kurt - no! Not in that way you dirty minded people! - and hoping he'd hurry the hell up and get here and get him some aspirin perhaps. Perhaps his wishes had been too loud because there in the next moment swayed Kurt, looking like the ice queen wrapped up in a duvet. Admittedly a very hungover ice queen. It would have been funny if he hadn't kicked Blaine in the stomach.

" KURT! "

" BLAINE! "

They took a moment, taking in each others appearances. Blaine noticing the slight sheen on Kurts brow, a peek of bare skin underneath the duvet along with some clothes that looked . . . dstressed and not all of them his. Kurt taking in how he'd kicked Blaine in the stomach and wondering what on earth his best friend was doing curled up in Santanas bathroom with tampons in his ears.

" Kurt. "

" Blaine. "

Both of them were wary this time, both wondering what the other was doing there. Confused and slightly shocked, Kurt crouched down and had to steady himself from the sweat sticky floor that Blaine was sitting on.

" What are you doing here Blaine? " He asked, taking in how his friend looked ready to just die and evaporate on the spot. Honestly, Kurt felt the same way.

" What? " Questioned the boy, eyebrows drawing together as he stared at Kurt in distress.

" What are you doing here? " Kurt repeated, slower this time. Poor Blainey. Ears probably blocked with cotton wool and his mouth probably tasting of it from the alchohol.

" WHAT? "

" WHAT ARE YOU - oh! " Remembering that it wasn't cotton wool in his friends ears but. . . something else, he plucked at the tampons and relished the fact that Blaine squeaked and pressed himself further backwards as he realised what had just been in his ears. Wanting to save his voice from or for more shouting, Kurt awkwardly got back to his feet and cleared his very sleepy throat.

" Why don't. . . um, we both get dressed and er talk about this? Downstairs? " Kurt blundered over his words, just wanting to get them out. God this was awkward as hell. Apparently Blaine thought so to, numbly nodding his head as he watched Kurt shuffle out of the bathroom before making a sprint back to the bedroom. Blaine watched him go sadly. There goes his aspirin, he thought miserably, turning back to the toilet to retch once more before wiping his mouth on a nearby towel, thinking that he could pay it back later. It wasn't too much of a deal anyway.

Then he spotted a familiar pair of sweats that had fallen out of Kurts duvet-and-possibly-actually-alive-laundrette. Carefully getting into them, he swallowed dryly as he realised that these were his sweat-pants.

That was a big deal.

Flushing the toilet, splashing himself with water in the face and finally shuddering, he turned to the door with a deep breath. Time for ' The Talk '.