A/N: To all those people I have kept waiting for this - I'm so sorry. My other story, is sort of on hold because I want to type it all before I post it… Erm, I had to change the categories and stuff because I realised the direction I'm pushing this in isn't just 'angst' is full blown CRIME-GRIMEE! :] This chapter sort of switches different points of view, but is always in 3rd person! OHOH, AND R.I.P Amy Winehouse *lessthan3* Gone but NEVERNEVERNEVEREVERRR forgotten :(
David Karofsky sat alone in his shared apartment. His face was red, and tears were slowly rolling down his boiling cheeks.
The phone lay up-turned on the cracked-glass coffee table and the laptop stood un-settled sideways on the sofa, keys deposited on the floor and cushion, with a hole in the screen. But he was fine. A stupid phone call didn't upset him. No way.
Slowly he stood up, deciding that he should clean up before Kurt came home. He would speak to Kurt about this - Kurt wouldn't lie to his face. Would he? Kurt had been though, obviously, other wise this wouldn't be happening. Picking up small shards of glass with his bare hands, he thought about everything he had been told by the clueless people on the other line. What did they mean when they said, that he and Kurt had been 'long broken up'? Had Kurt never told them about 'them'? Had Kurt portrayed him to be someone who steals boyfriends? Did they think, he would've 'stolen' Blaine if he didn't get Kurt?
The former jock, gazed around the slightly torn up apartment but sighed when he realised all evidence of a tantrum had been covered or cleaned up. He flicked his wrist up toward the light switch, turning the light off and strode towards the door. Karofsky decided he would take a drive, calm himself down then put on his I've-been-better-face for when he came home to Kurt and probably Blaine pretending they were watching something…
Finn ached. He squinted at the brightness and slowly sat up, taking in his surroundings. He was draped over the back of Mercedes couch, covered in what seemed to be silly string. How the hell, did the group get silly string? He contemplated standing up but voted not because his head was spinning - being the giant he was, if he fell over, he could kill someone. He looked around the room at all the people sleeping soundlessly - or noisily if you were Sam and Tina, apparently - and ran a hand through his hair. He needed to tell Kurt something, urgently, but he'd forgotten what it was. Oh well, if it was life threatening he'd remember.
Mercedes was the next to stir, she rubbed her dark eyes and slapped Sam's chest hoping that it would stop him from snoring so loudly. He curled into a tighter ball, but managed to get his arms around her waist and pull her down.
"I know your awake, boo." She tried. Her boyfriends eyes flickered open and he grinned before pulling her face down to his. He whispered something that sounded like 'I love you' and pressed a soft kiss to his girlfriend's lips.
Finn watched the pair and cleared his throat, as he did so Quinn sat bolt upright - the penis still visible on her pale cheek. Mercedes seemed to flush and leant down to kiss Sam on the forehead before stretching and crawling onto her feet. He groaned, missing the warmth of her body pressed against his.
"Nice dick, Quinn." Puck called from his position on the chair near the window, Quinn looked at him wide eyed before running to the bathroom, maybe to look in the mirror - maybe to vomit. It seemed, to Finn that once one person woke up everyone else did. Strange. He looked around again, scanning the room for his dainty wife.
"Has anyone seen Rach?" He mumbled for anyone to hear. As if on cue, Quinn wobbled back into the main living space, she looked pissed off.
"She's asleep in the bath; she's cuddling a rubber duck. She obviously can't hold her alcohol well…" Quinn threw herself onto the sofa next to Mercedes. Sam ran his fingers through his fringe and crawled toward Mercedes where he rested in between her legs, nuzzling his nose into her left one.
"I like ducks…" The easily recognisable voice of Brittany rang out around the room. Santana and Artie also made themselves noticed by grunting at Brittany's 'confession'.
"Is everyone awake?" Mercedes asked, not looking up from the top of her boyfriends head. She fiddled with his brown roots, and cursed when he tapped her hand away.
Puck studied the room, nodding as he acknowledged Tina and Mike already kissing and Lauren spinning herself in the swing chair.
"All except Kurt and Blaine," He grumbled "And I'm not waking them up. They could be up to all sorts…" Lauren cheered and continued to spin.
Finn walked back into the room, carrying Rachel like he did when they stepped out of the church when they got married. He dropped her gently onto the free sofa and chuckled inwardly as she moaned and curled into a little ball. He observed the room's residents.
Santana was back on Artie's lap and they were giggling at each other. Brittany had hobbled over to Quinn, in just her bra and shorts, and was speaking to her in hushed tones about the penis on the side of her face. Finn tried to ignore the fact he heard, 'if I lick it, will it taste like dick?' Sam had dragged himself onto the sofa next to Mercedes; her head was on his shoulder. Mercedes seemed half asleep as Sam entwined and untwined their fingers, stopping occasionally to fiddle with the same one finger - Finn pretended he didn't catch Sam's fingers always linger on Mercedes wedding finger for a bit too long and the small smile that crept onto the blonde's face every time he did so. Puck had made his way over Lauren, and pulled her up. Their limbs were wound together, as they swayed together in the corner of the room although no music could be heard. Finn remembered when his best friend told him that 'everyone has music in their hearts, they just have to listen to notice it' and grinned at the pair. Tina and Mike had stopped kissing but Mike was whispering gently into her ear and his girlfriend was giggling lightly to herself, and pushing Mike's shoulder every now and then. That was when he noticed Mercedes' bedroom door open. He smiled, waiting to look upon Kurt's hungover face but grimaced, then grinned again when he caught sight of INSANELY hungover Blaine's face.
Blaine quivered through the room slowly, stopping after every few steps to stop himself from wobbling. His head was throbbing and he felt like shit - he probably looked like shit too.
"Hey sexy!" Santana hollered and gave a small wave and wink. Blaine waved back and tried to smile, but his face hurt too much. He squeezed the bridge of his nose between his fingers in an effort to calm himself. He must've been hammered. He continued to bumble toward the sink; he grabbed a glass and filled it with water. After one sip, he felt a bit better so jumped onto the desktop.
"How bad did I get last night?" He asked from his seat on top of the dishwasher. The group mumbled some replies but Quinn spoke the loudest.
"Well, you got possessive in Seven Minutes in Heaven, got asked to make out by Brittany, and went all 'OH EM GEE. I THOUGHT SHE ATE YOU! On Kurt… You spent the night like making out with Kurt, laughing with Kurt and ignoring those that could ruin your life if you pissed them off!" Mercedes had woken up a bit, and one person popped into mind when she thought about possible 'life ruining'.
"Blaine, baby. I think Kurt should stay with you for now…" Mercedes started, Blaine gave her a quizzical look. "It's just; we may have accidentally pranked called Karofsky and told him… like everything?" Blaine looked very deer-in-headlights-ish and gulped.
Kurt stretched in a warm bed. He was fully clothed, but his tight jeans were too tight. He ran a hand down his body and stretched thoroughly when he found he had every article of clothing that he had on last night. He rolled onto his side, noticing a Blaine-sized lump in Mercedes special mattress. He grinned and sat up, checking his reflection in the mirror on the wall beside Mercedes king sized bed. The brunette slipped his shoes on, and walked slowly into the main room.
Everyone was gathered around Blaine. He didn't notice the look of worry and hurt on Blaine's face and he didn't notice the concern on everybody else's. He was glad his best man still fit in with the old New Directions. They were probably sharing secrets about him… typical of them isn't it? They always do that. He looked down at his watch, it was 5 past 9 and he needed to be in work by half past. Memories of telling the group he would leave without saying goodbye flooded his head as he grabbed his Gucci coat off Mercedes' coat rack. Kurt mistook Rachel's hungover sob for a cheerful laugh as he left.
He flagged down a cab and got in. Kurt checked his pockets and realised he'd left his phone in Mercedes' bedroom. Oh well, he'd call around later to get it.
If you love Karofsky - Kurtofsky/Klainofsky you might not want to read the next chapter. Because seriously - Karofsky can only be sane for a little bit longer. Pahaha.
*lessthan3* biatches.