"C'mon, Blaine. Here we go. Into the house."

I was incredibly thankful that my dad wasn't home this weekend. He would've flipped if he'd seen me with drunk friend - who happens to be a guy. Things like that just don't work out well when your me. Or when your gay. Take your pick.

Blaine grinned wildly as I half-carried, half-dragged him through the front door of my house. I wasn't sure why I had decided to take him here, but the damage was done, because there was no way in hell I would be taking him to his house. His parents were nice people, but I didn't think they'd take too kindly to their drunk son and his gay friend coming home from a wild party. It didn't give off a very good impression.

"Kurty?" Blaine sighed as I hung him over my back. This was another moment I cursed his being taller than I.

"Yeah, Blaine?" I grunted with effort. He sighed again, exerting more weight, but I kept him atop me.

"We should get married."

This time, I did drop him. And onto his ass, no less. But he was too smashed to notice or care. He remained on the top step of the staircase, looking at his fingers like he was imagining a bright gold wedding band on one of them.

"W-what?" I breathed. I understood that he was in a drunken state, but this was absurd. Even for an intoxicated Blaine.

"We should get married," he repeated confidently. His eyes now strayed to my face and he smiled at me with such childish happiness that I wanted to say yes just to keep looking like that.

"Uhm...yeah, I heard you, but I don't understand -"

"We -" He motioned between the two of us "- should get married!" He made as though tightening a bowtie, straightening a suit jacket, then murmuring words and kissing the air. "And go on honeymoon!" He started to hump the banister. All I could do was shake my head this antics.

"We'll discuss it tomorrow, Blaine," I said calmly, and helped him to his feet. With difficulty, we began to wobble down the stairs, his arm around my shoulder and mine his.

"When we get married," he began happily, "Can I be the bride?"

"You want to wear a white dress?" I asked comically. He nodded with vigour, making me roll my eyes.

"I have one picked out!" he cried. "I have since I was seven! It's really long and ivory and has no back and long sleeves embroidered with pearls and -"

"That's nice, Blaine," I cut over him. I didn't really want to know what his fantasy wedding dress was like. But the damage was done. All I could think about was Blaine's sexy ass squeezing into a wedding dress.

Damn his beauty.

"And I have a tux picked out for you, too!" he went on. Then he went into detail about his fantasy groom's tuxedo. Apparently, he'd been having the same thoughts as I was him. One giant hot damn mess. Oh, bad thoughts, bad thoughts!

We somehow were able to get into my bedroom unharmed. Blaine was still rambling on about how he thought I'd look better in mauve than violet. I dropped him onto my oversized bed, and he scooted over the right side of it.

"Come to bed!" he cried happily. I shook my head, but in the back of my mind, a little lusty voice murmured, How did he know you liked the left side better?

"No, Blaine," I told him firmly, shaking the voice away. "You're going to bed. I'm gonna get some water, some Pepto Bismol, and a bucket. Lord knows the side effects this will have on you."

I got up to leave, but was held back by a tugging, nagging voice that belonged to my secret crush. "At least can I have a goodnight kiss?"

Slowly, I turned back and saw his face. His beautifully pale skin was glistening with sweat and the mood lighting I always had. His dark curls, usually slicked back, were a bit unruly and actually fell onto his face a bit. His god-like nose, shining hazel eyes, and thin lipped smile only made it more difficult to say no.

So I didn't.

I walked towards him, palms sweating. He was suddenly smiling like an idiot again. I leaned down to kiss his cheek, but he turned midway, and our lips connected. Fireworks erupted behind me. I attempted to pull away and apologize, but I was held onto. His hands held the back of my neck and tugged my hair a bit. I found my entwining themselves around his body so that my smaller limb was on the small of his back. I was pulled closer until I was on top of him.

He rolled me over until we were both on our sides. His lips attacked mine with such ferocity and passion that it gave me the feeling he'd wanted to do this for a long time. So have you, the lusty voice told me fiercely, and I could only agree with a moan.

"I love you, Kurt," Blaine mumbled against my lips. That shook me out of my reverie. I somehow managed to pull away. The taste of vodka and cherry Chapstick remained on my mouth. Blaine didn't look fazed by my leaving. He simply rolled over, pulled the blankets to his chin, and snuggled up.

"Night, Kurt!" he cried warmly. I really wanted to say something intelligent. Maybe to go back to our previous pose. But I knew better.

"Night, Blaine," I replied quietly, and went upstairs.