A/N: So, I was more than halfway through writing this chapter and then I realized I was writing it, accidentally, as if Finn was still alive. Not sure how that happened. Wishful thinking I suppose.

Poison

Chapter 4

The next weekend Kurt comes home from New York.

Blaine appears to be settled in. His clothes neatly folded away in the closet, his toothbrush on display in the bathroom, right in the place where Kurt's own always had been, is joining his now, he cannot help notice.

The one thing out of place is ... that there is nothing out of place. Were it not for the boy tucked away under the bedcovers, only a head of curly hair sticking out, Kurt could not tell anyone is currently living in his old room.

He quietly slips of his jacket, his shoes he had already parted with downstairs. It takes a moment, or maybe he is just too careful as he climbs onto the mattress, and snuggles up behind Blaine.

When the boy does not stir at all Kurt dares to put an arm around him, pulling Blaine a little closer.

Kurt nuzzles Blaine's wild curls and with the kiss he places to the crook of Blaine's bare shoulder, the covers having slipped a little with Kurt's movements, the boy in his arms finally stirs awake.

"Mmh?" Blaine mumbles before turning around in Kurt's arms. Eyes blinking open, lids heavy still with the remains of sleep. "Kurt? I thought you'd not get in till later."

"I couldn't wait anymore," after placing a kiss to Blaine's nose he adds, "took a flight earlier."

"Thank you," Blaine's arms are thrown around Kurt before he can even blink again.

They both know why Kurt is here. This trip had not been planned at all before the events of this week. But Kurt has learned from that horrible disconnect leading to their break up last October. Has learned not only that but too why Blaine needs him close, as much as possible.

Kurt is his one, his only safe place. Especially after all the drama with the Warblers ever since Blaine had transferred. Sure Wes and Blaine still talk, but Wes too is far away, London is not somewhere Blaine can just drive and visit, and Skype can be a cold place.

Kurt's arms are warm.

Blaine lets go of Kurt again after a long moment only to curl back up and lifting the covers inviting Kurt in.

"One second," Kurt says kissing Blaine on the lips this time and then gets up, quickly stripping to his underwear and pulling on a spare t-shirt, a couple of which he still keeps around here. Not all his clothes had made it to New York with him.

Then he is back on the bed in a flash, and Blaine pulling the covers tighter around the both of them buries himself completely this time in Kurt's embrace.

There is just happiness then. The tears do not come for a long time, not until after breakfast, four hours later, while running weekend errands with Burt.

Kurt had not even thought about it before, ever, how different Blaine must look at some things these days.

Kurt had also not noticed how alcohol is displayed all around them at the supermarket. Now he does with Blaine clinging extra tight to his hand, suddenly, with both of his, breaths quickening and steps too whenever they pass a display.

Kurt wishes so bad he knew what is going on in Blaine's head right there and then, but he is afraid to ask, to upset Blaine further.

They both know Blaine cannot buy any anyway, their fake Ids from Sebastian have long been retired into a trashcan and are probably floating around some garbage covered wasteland now. Besides, there is no way that even would have worked here. Kurt feels 99.9% sure of it.

The ten minutes standing at the checkout counter are the worst, have Blaine rocking nervously on his feet, jittery through and through, trying hard not to look at the tiny bottles filled with oblivion that would be far too easy to snatch away, probably. And Kurt is really worried now. 'Has Blaine done that before?' Kurt cannot imagine it, but then again 'What do I know? I'm hardly ever here.' The thoughts make Kurt's stomach twist sickeningly.

When they walk back to the car, pushing the cart, Burt only a few feet behind them, Kurt says quietly, "I didn't know it was this hard for you."

In New York, the last times Blaine has visited, they had, to be honest, hardly ever left the bed, or couch, and wanting nothing more than to spend time alone take-out menus have been their best friend. And Santana and Rachel both keep their booze under lock and key, not trusting Kurt to not, again, accidentally down half a bottle of anything really, like they had caught him once doing sleep walking two days before a big exam. Thankfully it had only been wine then, nothing stronger. Stress sometimes makes him do weird shit in his sleep.

Part of why Kurt had asked his parents to allow Blaine to move in with them was that he knew with absolute certainty that his father had given up alcohol already almost completely after his heart attack, and then for good when he and Carole had gotten real serious, Carole having given up on alcohol herself a long, long time ago. Seeing a loved one destroyed by addiction can change you that way. She also had not wanted Finn to pick up any habits form her. The lack of a warm buzz now and then had been a small price to pay she still feels sure. And there is still ice cream and chocolate anyways, coffee, which Finn funny enough had never warmed to. She definitely had done the best she could to protect her boy, always, and had not ever had to worry about him turning into a caffeine addict. Turned out, in the end, you do not have to be addicted to anything for it to kill you, harsh and sudden.

"Blaine, can you try and tell me how you feel? Please? This is scary for me too," Kurt adds softly, only a slight crack to his voice. How could he not go there, his mind set on the worst possible outcome to anything still these days, the pain of losing Finn right there and piercing fresh, wide open wounds mercilessly.

Blaine's tears burst forward sudden, before any words.

And Burt, as if on call all along, steps right up beside Kurt, taking the shopping cart out of his hands, nodding towards Blaine, "Why don't you boys get a coffee at the diner on the corner, I'll pack the car, run one more errant for Carole, and then come join you for Lunch. Sound alright?"

"Thanks, Dad," Kurt says, hugging Blaine tightly, as the boy's tears start to give way, slowly, to a quietness Kurt is not sure he likes better at all.

Three minutes later, Blaine again clutching Kurt's right hand with both of his own, clammy and cold, has a faraway look on his face, only growing in intensity as they take the remaining steps of their short walk to the diner.