A/N: Hi! I really am SO sorry that I haven't updated for so long - I have been either ridiculously busy or ridiculously tired and concentration has been at an all-time low. I have a bit of inspiration back now though and I was equally spurred on by seeing that, amazingly, people are still reading this story after all this time, so thanks so much. Thank you to people who have reviewed too - I'm sorry I hadn't replied.

Well here's the next chapter - hope you enjoy it :)

Kurt and Liam had been dancing for quite a while; Liam really had some good moves and was indeed very attractive, with his floppy dark brown hair and intense blue eyes, but Kurt felt guilty for leaving Blaine for so long.

"I'm sorry, but I really have to get a drink and sit down for a minute." Kurt excused himself and headed back towards the bar.

As he pushed past all the dancing, writhing, sweaty bodies, he realised that Blaine was not alone. He appeared to be quite drunk and it was common knowledge that Blaine made very bad decisions when inebriated. Well, that was the excuse Kurt would be using for extracting him from the clutches of the man who was all over him. Almost literally. Kurt obviously couldn't tell Blaine that he couldn't bear to watch him with someone else when it clearly hadn't bothered Blaine that Kurt was dancing with Liam. Blaine had in fact encouraged it.

Kurt walked over and laid his hand on Blaine's shoulder. Blaine turned to look at him, a big grin crossing his face. "Hey Kurt! How's it going with that hot piece of ass over there?" Yeah, Blaine was definitely drunk. "Hey man – erm, sorry, what's your name again?" Blaine didn't wait for an answer, from the stranger beside him. "Well, anyway, this is Kurt, my best friend." Leaning over to the still nameless man, he stage-whispered "He used to be my boyfriend. Hot isn't he? I was dumb to let him go, huh?" The other guy looked Kurt up and down and smirked in a creepy way that made him shudder.

"Ok, Blaine, I think it might be time to leave now." Kurt tried his best to support Blaine as he manoeuvred him off the bar stool. He was kinda heavy for a small guy, probably all that muscle. Kurt tried not to think about all that muscle, even while it was pressed up against him as Blaine draped his arms around Kurt's neck.

"Kuurrrt!" Blaine whined. "My legs don't want to work."

"Yeah Blaine, I can feel that." Kurt glanced round to see the nameless lech walking off, so figured it was safe to put Blaine back on the barstool for a second. "Stay there, and don't talk to anyone. I'm just going to tell Liam we're leaving."

"Oh yeah. He's really hot, Kurt. Have you got his number? If not, you should totally get his number." Blaine slurred, before crossing his arms on the bar and resting his head on them. "Go get him, Kurt. I'll just be here."

Kurt felt a stab of pain at Blaine's encouragement to get another guy's number, especially after what he had just said about being dumb to let him go, but then he was drunk so he was probably spouting nonsense. Why was he so damn confusing? He sighed and debated whether or not it was a good idea to leave Blaine in this state, even for a second. He figured it would be rude to just go without saying anything to Liam, who seemed like a really nice guy, so he turned back to the dance floor. Liam met him halfway.

"Hey. I see your friend is kind of out of it, huh?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry Liam, but I think we're going to have to leave. It was lovely meeting you though."

"Do you think we could exchange numbers? I'd really like to see you again." Liam looked so hopeful.

Kurt glanced back at Blaine, then turned back to Liam. "Yeah, sure, why not? Tonight was fun." He smiled and pulled his phone out of his pocket, giving it to Liam, before looking back at Blaine, who thankfully was still where he left him, albeit perched on the edge of his seat somewhat precariously.

"Here you go. I put my number in and sent myself a text so I've got yours."

"Thanks. Look I really better go, before Blaine falls off that stool." Kurt took his phone and looked apologetically at Liam.

"Sure, I understand. I really enjoyed myself tonight." With that Liam leaned forward and kissed Kurt on the cheek. Kurt felt his cheeks heat with a blush, muttered a bashful goodbye and turned – to see Blaine looking right at him, a pained expression on his face. It quickly morphed into a drunken grin though, and Kurt strode back over to the bar before Blaine finally unbalanced, and was just in time to stop him falling in a heap on the floor.

"Come on you," he said, putting his arm under Blaine's and around his waist before draping Blaine's other arm around his shoulder, "ugh, god you're heavy! Let's get you home."

"Hey Kurt, my foot doesn't seem to hurt any more!" Blaine still had that dopey grin on his face. "Cool huh?"

"That's probably because you can't feel your foot any more Blaine." Kurt looked at Blaine's slight pout and laughed. "But yeah, that's cool. I'm having enough trouble getting you out of here as it is." Blaine giggled, then he seemed to remember something.

"Oh, oh Kurt! Did you get that guy's number? I'm telling you he's hot, you should have got his number. Did you get it?"

"Yes Blaine, I got it, stop going on." Blaine was silent for a second and Kurt thought maybe he had been a little harsh. "Now come on, and help me out a bit here – you remember how to walk don't you? One foot in front of the other."

"Course I do silly!" Kurt turned to see Blaine giving him one of his huge smiles that lit up his whole face. Which was so close. As he stared into Blaine's now big, wide, beautiful eyes he realised that he could just lean forward and steal the kiss that he was sure they had been so close to sharing earlier. And from the way Blaine was looking back at him, he was fairly sure Blaine was thinking the same thing. Especially when Blaine's gaze moved down and lingered on his lips...

But no, Blaine was drunk – it was wrong, he couldn't take advantage of him like that. He turned away and concentrated on half dragging Blaine over to a taxi. He glanced at Blaine quickly to see him still looking at Kurt with those famous Anderson puppy eyes, but this time the "kicked puppy" version. Kurt's heart hurt to know that he had put that expression on Blaine's face.

They had come to a taxi, and after assuring the driver that Blaine wouldn't throw up, and that Kurt would be personally responsible and pay for any cleaning bills if he did, he managed to get his drunk friend in the back and they set off back to Kurt's apartment. Blaine snuggled into his side and fell asleep, so Kurt put his arm round him and giggled at Blaine's snoring – he was terrible when he had been drinking.

Thankfully it was not one of those times that the elevator was out of order when they got back to Kurt's building, so he bundled a half asleep and very clingy Blaine into it, and shut the door. As they ascended, Blaine put his arms around Kurt's neck and nuzzled his head under Kurt's chin. Kurt sighed and wrapped his arms around Blaine, gently stroking his back, and leaning his head on top of Blaine's. God, how he had missed this. Blaine murmured contentedly and tightened his arms around Kurt.

The elevator stopped, but neither of them moved. Kurt didn't want it to end, but he was meant to be the responsible one and look after Blaine, so he gently moved his hands up to take Blaine's arms from around his neck, but he found they wrapped even tighter as Blaine groaned in protest.

"Come on, sweetie, I think we need to get you to bed." He said soothingly, and he felt Blaine nod slightly. Very slowly, Blaine arms slid from around Kurt's neck, but only as far as his shoulders, then he tilted his head up towards Kurt, opening his eyes slowly. Kurt felt his stomach somersault as Blaine looked at him through those long dark eyelashes, before he let his hands slip from Kurt's shoulders and started to shuffle off unsteadily. Kurt reached past him and pulled back the elevator door, then took hold of Blaine's arms from behind, trying to ignore his firm biceps, and walked him towards the apartment. He leaned Blaine against the wall as he slid the door back, then helped him inside.

Blaine sighed and then turned to Kurt. He looked at him sadly.

"I'm sorry, Kurt." He looked so forlorn.

"What for?" Kurt stepped forward and rubbed Blaine's arms gently, before taking his hands.

"I've made a fool of myself, embarrassed you and made you leave early when you were enjoying yourself."

"Shush now, you haven't. I was getting tired anyway." He smiled. "Besides, you've heard the story of what I did when I was drunk. Throwing up on Miss Pillsbury's shoes is far worse than getting a bit tipsy." He laughed, and Blaine smiled before his expression turned to one of panic.

"Kurt..."

"What's wrong, Blaine?" Kurt asked with concern.

"I think... I think I'm gonna... "

As Blaine went pale, and then what Kurt swore was actually green, he somehow managed to get him into the bathroom and knelt down in front of the toilet before he emptied his stomach contents in two foul swoops. Literally foul. Thankfully, Kurt's stomach was quite strong, so he knelt beside Blaine, rubbing his back gently and smoothing his hair, which was coming free of the gel. Blaine groaned miserably and apologised profusely for throwing up, but Kurt just laughed and said it was fine, and he was just glad it hadn't been in the taxi.

When Blaine had nothing left to get rid of, Kurt helped him wash his face and brush his teeth, and then got him into his bed – fully clothed as Blaine wouldn't entertain the idea of getting into pyjamas. Kurt left him to get into his own nightclothes, then came back to give him a glass of water and bid him goodnight before retiring to Rachel's bed.

But as he turned away, Blaine's hand caught his wrist.

"Please don't leave me, Kurt," he said, with the puppy eyes used to full effect. "I don't feel well."

Kurt had no idea how he was supposed to resist such a desperate – and dare he say ridiculously cute – plea, so he smiled and pulled back the covers to get in beside Blaine, who immediately wrapped himself around Kurt and snuggled into his side, his arm around Kurt's waist, and his head once again tucked under his chin. Kurt lay there on his back, listening to Blaine breathing, running the backs of his fingers gently up and down his ribs – something Blaine loved, and jokingly called the Dirty Dancing move.

Blaine cuddled even closer to Kurt, if that was possible, and mumbled a little in his sleep before the snoring started again. Kurt suppressed a giggle, not wanting to wake him. He took a big breath that was supposed to prepare for a deep sigh, but he accidentally inhaled Blaine's scent and the sigh caught in his throat. Admittedly it was mixed with alcohol, but there was still that underlying Blaine smell, incorporating his cologne, his body wash, and even his hair gel, which actually smelled very nice, not soapy. There was only one way to describe Blaine's smell: intoxicating.

Kurt took another deep breath, then pressed a kiss to a loose curl and drifted off to sleep himself.