I've kept you guys waiting so long that I'm keeping my A/N for the end of the Chapter. The only thing I need to mention now is that there is a link on my profile for the song which appears in this Chapter and it is DEFINITELY worth listening to as the scene begins. (the video's a bit odd but just don't watch it- it's because there were only live versions available!)

ANYWAY – please please please enjoy : )

Wes was stressed.

It wasn't the conventional kind of stressed where one is mildly anxious but the encapsulating stress that grasps every nerve and twists until veins pop and skin flushes. Blaine had tried, he really had, biting his lip, coughing to cover giggles, positioned himself to prop his chin on his arm in an attempt to shield his mouth from sight... nothing was working. It was all too funny witnessing the melt down of one Wesley Kim.

"Wes why don't you just give some of the responsibility to other Warblers?" Blaine asked, cocking an eyebrow in the direction of his roommate who had decided to rearrange the snack table for the hundredth time.

Blaine coughed again, masking another laugh at Wes' very intentional silence as Isla made an appearance into the senior commons. Wes had made it completely plain that he was to be in charge of this particular event in order to ensure every base had been covered. The St Luciana Songbirds were sweet enough but, compared to the Crawford Country Day ladies, they were the most competitive and always hit Regionals with a bang. Wes took it personally in every respect.

"Dumpling?"

"Isla," Wes smiled thinly resenting the term of endearment and turning with wide eyes to find her holding a large barrel of drinks.

"You boys are singing your songs tonight, aren't you?"

"Yes, Isla. We're singing. Why?" he drawled, words masked with pleasantries. Blaine was sure he could see the vein making a reappearance in a Julia Roberts-esque manner.

"Well, I bought a lovely collection of thirst quenchers for you all. Lots of flavours and they're low in sugar and preservatives. Keep those teeth in check," he cooed, smiling hugely. Isla was a trooper. She'd serviced Dalton's kitchens for years, providing a beaming smile, motherly quip and the world's most hearty food any student could ever wish for. She was also, said with the utmost respect, a busy body. Blaine loved her, especially the way her wavy ginger hair threatened to break free from her tight bun much as his own fought against his gel – she was of Irish descent and had the accent to boot. The fact that she was the only person in charge of supervision for the impending event was enough to ensure that the Warblers had complete control.

"Thank you Isla. There's no need to do anymore. We've got it from here."

Blaine watched as she nodded but didn't move. It was all he could do, from his spot on the couch, to not jump up to help but it was something of a spectacle to witness Wes' resolve weaken by the second - Blaine wanted to be there at the bitter end.

"Are you sure sweetie? I have a fruit basket to bring yet and not to mention my scones, oh you boys don't know whatcha missin'." Blaine grinned, receiving Isla's attention wholeheartedly. He was out of uniform and in a simple dark sweater and fitted jeans, which still seemed to cause her a few problems. "Oh dear, I didn't notice you there. How are you my lovely?"

"Very good thank you Isla, how are you this evening?"

Wes groaned, rolling his eyes as he turned back to the spread. "Oh dear, you're always so polite. I'm feeling full of busy, full of busy. It's nice to be able to help."

"Well we're extremely grateful aren't we, Wesley?"

It was another chip at his armour, Blaine mused sneakily. "Yes Blaine," Wes spat, turning with a sour grin, "we're ever so grateful."

After ten minutes of chat, Blaine waved to Isla as she left in a flurry of blown kisses and motherly pats. She'd provided the muffins, scones, fruit basket and a host of other delicacies which nobody could identify. The senior commons was filling up with Warblers aiming to help out; Wes was actually purple and regaling the other guys with his woes.

"...and Blaine entertained her for another hour so of COURSE she had to bring more food and mess up the system. Anderson's incapable of just dropping the 'perfect' routine for a second to just... get RID of her. I mean she's nice and feeds us well but she hasn't LEFT ME ALONE all day and I'm behind with planning so much so that the Songbird girls are going to sense the unpreparedness..."

Many of the Warbler guys were masking smiles and winking in Blaine's direction. He was hardly phased by Wes' rants – he was his long suffering roommate after all.

"Love you too Wesley. As always," Blaine chimed. The glare shot in his direction was of pure poison but Blaine still managed to see the twinge of love in there, buried deep.

Blaine tucked his bookmark into his novel, sliding it back into his bag as a voice came from behind him.

"You in his bad books?"

"If you've come to help me wind up Wes then," Blaine mused, "take a seat."

Thomas laughed, flopping down on the opposite end of the couch. "He ready to blow?"

"Oh we're close, very close."

Blaine beamed, nudging Thomas' shoulder. His best friend had become somewhat of a permanent fixture over the previous couple of days due to Prom arrangements and fatherly insistence. "So, haven't seen you all day, how's life Anderson?"

Blaine frowned, narrowing his eyes. "What?"

The shroud of innocence that washed over Thomas' face said it all. "Nothing. Just enquiring about my dear friend. Can't I do that?"

"I haven't done it yet if that's what you were going to ask," Blaine said cleverly, shaking his head with feigned exasperation, "because I can tell you're itching to. I know you."

Thomas laughed, letting his head fall back onto the solid leather. "I was merely being polite and a good friend," he answered simply with raised eyebrows, "but that's good to know too." Blaine wasn't stupid- he caught the smug look.

"Just because I asked you about," he lowered his voice, leaning into Thomas' shoulder, "... personal stuff does not mean you can be so high and mighty."

"Woah Woah Blaine chill... out. Just keeping a track of things. Would you rather I didn't take an interest?"

"You take too keen an interest Tom, that's your problem." He half laughed.

"Well, please instruct me in the rules of prudence next time you wish to discuss the many tricks involved in giving exceptional blow jobs."

"Tom!" Blaine spat, "I swear. Shut. Up."

The deep laughter that followed was enough to drive Blaine insane. "Just teasing. I'll be quiet. Just need to know you've thought tonight over, that's all."

With a quick turn of his head, Blaine's forehead fell into the deepest of wrinkles. "Thought what over?"

"Tonight."

"Tom, if you're trying to tell me something then spit it out. What?"

"Look B," Thomas said quietly leaning his head close to Blaine's on the couch to mask his voice, "what we talked about. These mixers are known for getting a little bit... well, safe to say I ended up in the Right Wing in a darkened room with one of the Songbirds in nothing but Victoria Secret's latest collection a couple of years ago and she knew I was gay too. It took quick thinking and some serious stealth to avoid a pretty horrific situation."

The whites of Blaine's eyes shone bright. "Oh my god, please tell me you're not being serious."

"Anderson, you missed last year's shindig didn't you?"

"Yes but I'm sure I'm more than capable of looking after myself."

After a brief smile, Thomas chuckled, shaking his head. "Ever the adorable optimist. I'm just going to warn you now because I've been to these Pre-Regionals mixers for three years and, let me tell you, Dalton's foundations are built on the stories they provide."

"What's that got to do with what we talked about?"

"I'm going to use an equation because I know how much you like math," Thomas teased, smirking playfully, "you plus Kurt plus alcohol plus lack of supervision plus empty dorm rooms equals possible bad decisions. The by-products being terrible headaches, sketchy memories and a whole bunch of that lovely thing we call regret."

"Tom," Blaine groaned, "I'm not just going to pounce on Kurt at the very first chance I get and anyway, I can handle one drink."

The couch shook with Thomas' laughter. "Anderson, you're a lightweight. One drink is a bender to you and I'm saying this because I care."

"Tom, I promise, I'm fine. I'm only going to have one drink, we'll perform, the Songbirds will perform, I'll spend time with Kurt, no doubt there will be kisses but as far as the so called empty dorm rooms go... I won't be in them until I'm crawling into bed... alone... to sleep."

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you."

"Are they safety pins?"

"Yes."

"Boy, you're wearing pants held together by safety pins to a prep school Show Choir mixer?"

"Mercedes," Kurt snapped, throwing closed his closet door with a huff, "what else do you suggest I wear because short of a garbage bag, I haven't got anything I feel happy in."

She laughed, the mechanical sound echoing around Kurt's room from his speakers beside his laptop following an epic afternoon Skype session.

"So what's the plan for tonight?"

The pile of unwanted clothes was mounting with every syllable Kurt spoke, a mix of patterns, textures and labels to rival Fashion Week remnants. "It's a pre-Regionals mixer even though our Regionals round isn't for a while."

"So is your boy toy taking you?" she asked, shuffling closer to the screen as if it'd make a slight bit of difference. Kurt rolled his eyes, crinkling is nose in disgust at a particularly old pair of jeans with a hole close to the crotch.

"Urgh, I need to marry a rich man so he can keep my in the manner to which I want to be accustomed," he groaned before turning his attention back to the screen, "and yes, Mercedes, Blaine is coming with me. He's a Warbler too."

She laughed, high pitched and with her trademark squawk. "Baby, have you had that talk yet? You said he'd asked you."

Kurt felt his stomach tighten. They hadn't and he was almost glad of it. It was sensible to talk, that he understood from experiencing the hell of baby drama in McKinley and Finn's transparent dumbness when it came to the ways in which babies were conceived, but the thought of saying those things to Blaine prompted a deep feeling of nausea.

"No, not yet," he stated simply, still rifling through the pile. He tried to change the subject. "What do you think of this shirt?"

Mercedes cocked her head in thought. "What colour is it? Bring it closer to the screen." Her manicured finger beckoned him forward.

"It's purple check. I thought I'd wear these too," he offered, threading a pair of plum braces over the arms of the shirt, "what do you think?"

"Fierce," Mercedes smiled giving a definite thumbs up. With a rock back on his heels, Kurt smiled and waved as he disappeared into the bathroom to change.

In ten minutes, he appeared in full outfit to a loud wolf whistle. "Thoughts?"

"Damn boy, if he doesn't rip those clothes off you in seconds then he's not worth a boyfriend like you."

Kurt grinned, pushing away the nervous twinge that her suggestion caused to the back of his mind. Was he truly ready for that to happen? He'd thought about it a lot and yes, they'd fooled around a lot in an attempt to slowly get used to not only each other but the realisation that they actually had someone to fool around with. It didn't come easily, the vulnerability and laying bare that so many other people found so easy, but Blaine had been so wonderfully understanding that Kurt's nerves had seeped away gradually with every step they'd taken. The farthest they'd gone, to date, was shirtless kissing- Kurt wasn't so naive to think that Blaine didn't want more and, if he was truthful to his teenage urges, he wanted it too but that was the problem – the fear was a little greater than the need to strip and dry hump Blaine on his bed or more.

Kurt was sure – no, he was certain – that he was a strange alien sort of teenage boy. Why didn't this 'sex' stuff come easier to him?

"Merce, I'm going to sign off now. I need to go down as it's getting late. Have you got plans?"

She scoffed, rolling her eyebrow. "Kurt, when do I ever have plans? I'm off to have an intimate relationship with my Gossip Girl box set. Nothing like a bit of Chuck Bass to ward off the misery of a night alone. Have fun sweetie."

Deep in Kurt's chest, he felt that longing to curl up on a bed with his best friend. She deserved a fun night and not one alone in her room so he made a mental note to plan an evening of fun in the very near future. Missing her was becoming a daily occurrence.

"Thank you. You too." He blew her a kiss. Her computerised image caught it with a wink before the screen minimised and went black.

After pushing his feet into his black boots and straightening his jeans, Kurt took a breath and left for the party.

"Ladies, Ladies, welcome," Wes called, standing on the window ledge, "the evening is relaxed from here on out except for our performances so please, help yourselves to drinks and refreshments and enjoy!"

Blaine laughed into his cup, making his way from the refreshment table. It was comical to map the gobstopper-like eyes of his fellow Warblers, all taking in the skirts, or lack of, that the Songbirds were wearing. Jeff was almost salivating, following one particularly pretty blonde Songbird like a sheep.

"You'd think he'd close his mouth," Tom murmured, returning from catching up with David who was now setting up the speakers.

Blaine laughed, shaking his head. "Jeff is eternally celibate and sixteen. Does anything else need to be said?"

"Guess not," Thomas chuckled, clinking Blaine's cup with his, "and what's in there, curly?"

"Shut up." Blaine blushed, lowering his head. The thing about all-girls schools was that, although the parents of such girls spent thousands on their private education and the ladies were revered for their etiquette and 'proper' manners, such seclusion bred rebellion. Within minutes, miniature bottles of vodka were produced from where they'd been cleverly concealed in bras or such like.

Isla had swept the room, smiling and cooing over every young lady followed by the caretaker, Peter, and the night porter Roger who eternally moaned about his job. They had seemed to be reasonably satisfied that nothing untoward was occurring, prompting them to head up to the Rec-lounge to no doubt sample some of Isla's home brew and raisin scones. Blaine had to laugh – Dalton was an interesting establishment.

"I'm going to remain lucid tonight in order to pick up the pieces that will inevitably scatter," Thomas said after a moment's silence. He couldn't help but feel slightly protective of the Warblers, especially Blaine, and was certain they wouldn't see Roger, Isla or Peter again until morning. Someone had to be responsible. He'd attended his fair share of college parties and was sure he'd witnessed inebriation and destruction at its most acute, therefore, he was determined to be the 'sensible one'.

"You like playing Prince Charming, don't you?" Blaine asked, hoisting himself up onto the cabinet along the far wall. Thomas raised his eyebrows playfully.

"And you like climbing on furniture but I don't get up your butt about it do I?"

"I hate you," Blaine groaned, finishing his drink, "see," he glared pointedly, "only one drink and I'm fine."

"Slippery slope, B."

Kurt swallowed hard. He could hear the music, in fact he could feel it vibrating the decorative vases and candelabras that lined the painted hallway. The Warblers were a cultured bunch but it seemed that the Songbirds were, well, Kurt was sure the only word for them was 'harlots'. He'd already spotted a navy blue jacket wrapped with slim female arms in an abandoned classroom. The nerves were strong now.

It wasn't that he didn't know how to have a good time- he was perfectly capable of letting loose and enjoying himself but teen parties and debauchery were not part of his social schedule and had never been something he'd taken part in, hell, he'd never even been invited. The prospect of a room full of, no doubt, tipsy young men, half undressed girls, loud music, lewd intentions and a whole host of endless possibilities... it was too scary.

"Hummel!" Kurt jumped, swinging around on his heels to find Thomas leaning against the doorframe, "you joining in the madness?"

Kurt gulped. Thomas looked the very picture of handsome in dark brown fitted trousers, a slim cream shirt and black cardigan, which left nothing to the imagination due to his rather huge frame. Kurt never failed to flush with insecurity over his size and general tendency to resemble a 'twelve year old milkmaid' when he was in Thomas' presence, regardless of him being a spectacularly lovely guy.

"Madness?"

Thomas chuckled affectionately. "Well, Jeff has taken to talking to body parts instead of looking the girls in their eyes and David is currently setting up his karaoke machine. He owns a collection of 80s power ballads."

"Wow," Kurt breathed, biting his lip, "how can I miss that?" He was sure to lace every word with enough sarcasm to sharpen a blade.

"My thoughts exactly. Never a dull moment. You want a drink?" he asked. It was more than obvious that Kurt wasn't exactly comfortable judging by his reluctance to move from outside the door, however, if Thomas knew one thing about his best friend, Blaine would squash any anxieties Kurt had in a second. He had smile capable of curing world freakin' peace.

"Do you guys have water?"

The manic laugh in response sent chills down Kurt's spine.

"Come ooooooooooooooooon," Blaine whined, grabbing at Thomas' shirt, "you're no fun. You're all Mr College. You're such an old old old man."

Kurt giggled, biting at the rim of his cup, swaying a little to David and some Songbird called Kaley's rendition of 'Summer Nights'. Things were beginning to get a little hazy.

"I agree," Kurt offered, deadpanning with a tilt of his head.

Thomas shook his head, heaving himself off the couch and stretching out his hand for Blaine to grab. It was no surprise that he took three tries before his fingers could quite take a hold.

"Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, Kurt," Blaine chanted, letting go to sit back on the couch, "you'll listen?"

"Yes, Blaine," Kurt replied, biting back a grin, "I'm not exactly going to go anywhere." He watched as Blaine skipped behind Thomas as David's duet came to an end. The room was bustling tight and growing stuffier by the second but the jokes were well meant and conversation was flowing nicely- the dancing was far too amusing too. White boys shimmying with girls to a Songbird's solo to 'Single Ladies' had Kurt clinging to the leather of the couch in an attempt to stop himself from showing them how it was done. They were cute, he'd give them that, but they made Beyonce look a lot like flailing in molasses.

Blaine. He was tipsy. It was endearing, especially when it appeared that drunkenness aimed to only heighten his more appealing traits turning him into a ball of inimitable sunshine with a lopsided smile. He couldn't dance for toffee though. Kurt grinned to himself, sitting alone on the couch, as Blaine pushed the songbook in Thomas' face. They were exceptionally sweet together, Thomas propping up Blaine, pushing him back when he became particularly handsy and rolling his eyes at every other comment.

"Yea Tom! Doing it for the old school!" David yelled, one hand in the air, the other wrapped provocatively around Kaley's waist. Kurt was sure he saw a flash of an inked tattoo snaking its way across her lower back. Typical.

Thomas rolled his eyes for the hundredth time that evening. The atmosphere was pleasant and non-judgemental, which was perfect for his return to Warblerdom. Being the previous esteemed soloist had always been an honour but it'd come with a fair amount of pressure which always mounted around competition time, however, this was a party and Blaine was damned insistent.

Blaine grabbed his mic and passed the twin to Thomas. The music began, loud and lilting, with a chorus of trumpet noises and snare drums. Kurt swallowed a giggle as Blaine began to wiggle his hips, opening his mouth to begin.

This thing called love I just can't handle it
This thing called love I must get round to it
I ain't ready
Crazy little thing called love

Thomas laughed, shaking his head at Blaine's jerky walk which placed him in the centre of the room between the couches. Kurt smirked, watching them with wide amused eyes. His boyfriend was actually insane. He watched until Thomas opened his mouth, following up with the second verse; Kurt was no longer simply watching, he was staring in shock, his mouth wide and teasing into a smile. The boy could sing.

This called love
It cries
In a cradle all night
It swings

Blaine shimmied his way towards Thomas, beckoning him with a crooked finger. In wave-like hip rolls, Thomas joined in, eyebrows raised and fingers clicking in the best impression of a swing singer Kurt was sure he'd ever seen.

It jives
It shakes all over like a jelly fish,
I kinda like it
Crazy little thing called love

Kurt swallowed hard, narrowly avoiding spitting his drink down himself as Blaine slid down the side of the couch, shaking his limbs and looking directly at Kurt. Every word was directed at him from that point onwards, much to the surrounding Warblers' amusement- the ensuing cat calls and wolf whistles were just shockingly embarrassing. Blaine took a breath, pointing dead certain at Kurt's blushing face with the shiniest grin.

There goes my baby
He knows how to Rock n' roll
He drives me crazy
He gives me hot and cold fever
Then he leaves me in a cool cool sweat

Kurt noted the pronoun change with a coy smile. From that moment on, both boys danced around each other in perfect unison, their voices melding together cleverly in a way that screamed 'familiarity'. Kurt couldn't help but watch with fondness, knowing that both had taken the spot as Warbler's lead soloist – it all made so much sense seeing them perform together.

I gotta be cool relax, get hip
Get on my track's
Take a back seat, hitch-hike
And take a long ride on my motor bike
Until I'm ready
Crazy little thing called love

I gotta be cool relax, get hip
Get on my track's
Take a back seat, hitch-hike
And take a long ride on my motor bike
Until I'm ready (Ready Freddie)
Crazy little thing called love

This thing called love I just can't handle it
this thing called love I must get round to it
I ain't ready
Crazy little thing called love
Crazy little thing called love
Crazy little thing called love
 As the music ended, both Blaine and Thomas fell onto the sofa heavily, laughing and struggling to get their breath. Cheers erupted from the girls, some miraculously appearing in front of them both. Kurt was sure their eyelashes would moult if they continued to bat them with as much ferocity but his daydream came to an abrupt halt as Blaine pushed the girls aside and climbed messily over the table separating both couches and landed with a thump beside him.

"Hi," he sighed, leaning his head on Kurt's shoulder. The warmth was immediate and so was the tightness in his stomach that came hand in hand with Blaine-proximity.

"Hey there, Buble," Kurt quipped, raising an eyebrow.

Blaine's face slid easily into a woozy grin. "You liked it! I sang it to you. I thought you'd roll your eyes at me and tell me I was an attention seeker which you diiiiid but you were smiling too which means you liked it. You did didn't you?"

It took a massive amount of will power to avoid an eye roll (it seemed that everyone appeared to have the same reaction to drunk Blaine). Kurt smiled, looking down at Blaine's escaping curls and clever little smirk, unsure of how his boyfriend could move swiftly from being so 'put together' to the gazing, swooning lump beside him.

"I did like it," he offered, sliding a little lower on the couch, "and Thomas has an amazing voice."

Blaine jumped up to a sitting position, clapping his hands on his knees. "He has! He has and he doesn't sing much anymore. He was amazing back in the day. You're amazing though, we should sing together. I'd love that."

Tugging the sleeve of Blaine's dark sweater, Kurt sedately stroked a line down his arm in an attempt to keep him at bay. Two of the Songbirds were smoothly singing a Duffy number, swaying prettily in a very Rachel Berry-esque manner, causing Kurt to smile slowly. He glanced down at Blaine's head which had pressed itself into the crook of his neck. He was humming mindlessly, playing with the bottom of Kurt's braces with the cutest sliding smile creeping on his lips every few seconds.

"What?" Kurt asked, sure the cogs were turning inside Blaine's mind. It seemed that tipsy Blaine was somewhat unpredictable.

"I like you."

Kurt felt the deep red flood his face as an ache spread through his entire body. Blaine really shouldn't ever say things like that. Kurt was sure he'd need some kind of hospitalisation in the very near future if he was subject to such intense feelings any longer.

"I like you too," he said simply, a little quieter even though most of the room were paying attention to anything but them.

"I like when you smile. I like making you smile. You deserve to smile all of the time, you know?" There wasn't an appropriate response. Instead, Kurt laughed lightly. "You don't believe that do you?" Blaine asked, glancing up under his eyelashes in a way that tugged low in Kurt's tummy.

"Blaine..."

"No Kurt!" Blaine said sharply, sitting up and grasping hold of both braces in his hands, "you don't get to do that. You have to believe me because I don't lie, do I Tom?"

The heat rising from the collar of his shirt sent Kurt spiralling. He tried to quieten Blaine but it was too late, Thomas heard and was squinting beyond a group of Songbirds. In seconds he was sitting to Blaine's side- Kurt just wanted to die of embarrassment.

"What's that, Anderson?"

"I don't lie do I?" Blaine said simply, his voice couched in an odd kind of child-like wonder, "tell Kurt I don't lie because he doesn't believe that he deserves to smile all of the time."

It was a moment of pained silence. Thomas fought with the need to laugh but knew, despite his automatic urges, that he had to suppress them for his best friend's sake. Blaine was an unique soul, one with the most sincere of expression and a heart with the purest honesty. Kurt knew it – that was obvious – but drunk Blaine seemed all too keen to splurge every inner thought upon anyone who would listen.

"B, I'm sure Kurt knows and no you don't lie. You don't hold anything back actually," he joked. The sarcasm was lost on an inebriated Blaine who sighed with a smile but it was spotted by Kurt- he offered Thomas a sly smile. Blaine began playing with the braces clips once more, now happily resigned in the knowledge that Kurt knew he was wanted and loved. "Just ignore this idiot, angelface, he's a clingy douchebag when he's under the influence and I'm only speaking from a single moment of past experience. He doesn't make an experience of drinking, hence the speed at which he loses all ability to think before he speaks."

Kurt chuckled lightly, glancing down at Blaine's deft fingers. He was intent on removing them but his sloppy state was a great barrier, not to mention the fact that he seemed to have been rendered deaf or was feigning ignorance.

"I've noticed."

"He only acts like this with people he's comfortable with though," Thomas offered kindly, nudging Kurt's shoulder. The small shift in Kurt's posture reminded Thomas of the way Blaine spoke so carefully in reference to his inexperience with physical contact.

Kurt settled into the back of the couch, eyes determined to avoid contact. "I'm getting used to it. I've never met anyone quiet like him."

"Oh believe me, Hummel, I doubt you'll find anyone at all. Maybe it's what he's been through in his life or it could be down to some gene defect but the boy's loyal to his core and incapable of seeing anything other than the shiny happy things in life. I guess he's had to."

Kurt coughed slightly, shuffling. Blaine's head was resting against his stomach now, his eyes closed and breathing soft. "I can understand that. Maybe I did the opposite."

"Saw the bad?" Kurt nodded gently, wrinkling his nose. "It's easy to do. Guess I did for a while. The parents didn't cause me problems like they did with Blaine, it was outside forces that toughened me up and taught me to walk tall. What you went through was tough from the limited information Blaine passed on when you first transferred."

"Neanderthal decided to go out of his way to make me suffer. He was a meat head with problems and apparently I was the perfect play toy. Anyway, I learned my fair share of comebacks and found out who my true friends were. It wasn't until I came here that I realised I hadn't smiled properly in a long time."

Thomas felt his heart sink. The kid was nice, so nice, and had been through far too much. He let his eyes fall to Blaine's head, softly balanced on Kurt's lap now.

"Well, he seems happy," he mused, smirking at Kurt and instigating the slightest of blushes. It took all of Thomas' will power to resist tweaking his cheeks – they were too pinchable.

Kurt smiled, biting his lip. He didn't want to stop watching the way Blaine's fingers were looped inside his braces, holding on. "Well, I think I'll head off and leave him in your capable hands," Thomas said simply, easing himself up without rocking the couch too much, "just a couple of things to pass on, you know, for future reference. He's a dead weight to have leaning on you when he's like this so be careful when lugging him up the stairs, he likes to break into song so stuff your hand in his mouth if he tries it on in the corridors upstairs and one last thing..." Kurt nodded, laughing lightly and crooking his eyebrow in question. "Give him a cuddle goodnight for me. If that's not too weird."

Thomas wasn't even sure why he said it but it was out before he could take it back. It was a gamble bearing in mind he was talking to Blaine's boyfriend but Kurt smiled, slow and understanding, before nodding. "I will definitely do that."

"Cheers angel face, I'll see you soon. Prom's coming up so I'll no doubt catch you then."

"It was good to see you again," Kurt called over the music, lifting his hand to wave as Thomas smiled, disappearing beyond a group of dancing bodies.

Turning his attention back to Blaine, Kurt let his fingers idly stroke the sneaky curls at the back of his ear. The touch roused Blaine a little, prompting him to shuffle closer, pushing his arms around Kurt's middle and sinking his head further into his lap.

"Blaine?" Kurt whispered, careful to speak directly into Blaine's ear over the loud music.

There was a slightly muffled response, spoken into the material of Kurt's shirt. The heat engulfed him as Blaine's arms tightened automatically, drawing their bodies together. "Yea?" Blaine asked, blinking at the light.

Kurt smiled fondly. "You fell asleep."

"Oh that's not good. Did Wes draw on my face again? Did he tie me up with my school tie?" Blaine's face contorted in sheer panic, his limbs scrambling to regain control of themselves as he sat up.

"No," Kurt said through giggles, "you just fell asleep in my lap. Thomas left but said to give you a cuddle."

"Awwwww," Blaine cooed, tilting his head in response, "so where is it?"

"I actually have to give you one?" Kurt asked cocking his eyebrow with a shockingly straight face. He had no idea how he managed to keep himself in check sometimes, especially when Blaine looked as devastatingly handsome as he did.

"Yes you do," Blaine giggled, sliding closer, "I demand one right now." He held his arms open wide and pursed his lips playfully, swaying slightly on the spot. Blaine couldn't quite lean in, knowing he'd slip and fall if he did so he waited for Kurt patiently. With a shake of his head, Kurt leaned closer, wrapping his arms around Blaine's waist and pressing his nose into the dip of Blaine's shoulder.

"You smell like cheap alcohol," Kurt spoke softly, half laughing. The vibrations of Blaine's laugh rattle down his spine sending every nerve ending firing – Kurt found himself wishing he wasn't in a room full of Warblers and slutty Songbirds.

"You smell nice. Like Kurt."

It wasn't a normal moment to find tears rushing to the surface but Kurt had finished off two drinks, careful to stay lucid and alert, and Blaine was just... adorable- to use his coined phrase.

Shuffling to lean back, Blaine smiled and winked. The alcohol in his system was responsible for the slightly odd noise that resembled a whine before he leaned in, swooping and quick, to press his lips to Kurt. Initially, Kurt felt himself tense, fully aware that at least one of the Songbirds had gasped in shock, but as Blaine's hands crept up his braces in step patterns inching closer to his neck, he melted and gave in. The soft sway of Blaine's shoulders made him dizzy. Good dizzy.

"Mmmmmm," Blaine sighed, lifting free and squinting to let Kurt's face focus. He looked pretty and so real; he was warm and close and smelled like nice things- he was everything Blaine ever wanted to wake up to forever. "I love you," he groaned out, letting his lips fall to Kurt's neck where they stopped still, the words spoken directly onto his skin, "and these braces and your shirts and cheeks and nose and hair."

Kurt breathed out, suddenly incapable of functioning properly. Blaine's fingers were so very enticing, drawing fluttering patterns over his skin in a manner so uncontrollable and so damned distracting that his brain was two steps behind. He just let himself say the first thing that came to mind. "What about my pants? You don't love my pants?"

Blaine snorted, leaning back with his hands still clasped at Kurt's shoulders. He allowed himself a moment to just look (and for Kurt's face to slot into place again), taking in every detail. As he spoke, his words slid over one another but he didn't care, Kurt was there and everything was right with the world. "No," he drawled out, leaning close so that every breath blew back in his face from Kurt's cheek, "I worship them. Especially those pants, those special ones because you think I don't notice but I do... all of the time," Kurt shuddered, well aware that his throat made an odd gurgling noise at the velvety smoothness of every word, "I just really, really, really, really," Blaine added, creeping his fingers lower down Kurt's braces gradually until they met his waistband, "want to just unclip those pins. All of them."

Kurt swallowed. It was all just too much. "Blaine..."

"Hmmm?" Kurt nearly laughed but the heat around them was enough to send him giddy. All he could do was stare directly into Blaine's eyes. They were dilated but still the same bright, true eyes he'd grown so accustomed to focusing on when he required confirmation that he had someone he could trust.

"Maybe this isn't the best place," Kurt groaned, feeling his skin shudder. He really didn't want to be putting Blaine off from saying all of those lovely things but they had an audience – it was verging on the obscene.

Blaine settled himself against Kurt's chest, staring him straight in the face. "I don't care if people stare because I know they're just jealous," Blaine drawled, "and they wish they looked like you in those pants. They wish they were those pants. In fact I wish I was those pants. Do you know what I mean?"

"Blaine Anderson, I swear to god," Kurt all but squeaked, "you need to stop talking right now."

"Why? Do you not understand me? I'm trying to explain," he tried, sitting up straight with a frown. It was endearing the way that Blaine believed his words were appropriate for a packed room full of their friends and a whole host of girls they didn't really know. Still, Kurt found himself caught in a quandary – let Blaine carry on speaking and succumb to the blissful realisation that his boyfriend found him attractive or push him to stop and begin the rather unappealing ascent to the dorms where he had no means of distracting Blaine from the inevitable.

"I understand you but you need to stop because people are watching."

"Oh let them watch," Blaine huffed, pressing a kiss to Kurt's nose, "I'm sick of people judging. I just want to kiss you, is that so horrible and awful? Does this feel sick and twisted to you?"

Kurt sighed affectionately, sensing the emotion in Blaine's voice immediately. It was definitely time for weepy drunk Blaine. "No it's not sick and twisted in the slightest, Blaine," he explained simply, emphasising every word, "it's actually very, very nice but it's not the time or the place."

"I love kissing you though and it's hard to stop it when I want to because you always smell nice and you just look at me and I can't think straight. You do all of these things that make me want to so it's just hard. Nobody ever kissed me like you. Nobody ever looked at me like you do. Nobody makes me feel like you do and it's just so amazing... like magic," he whined, falling forward and snuffling his nose at Kurt's shirt collar.

Kurt's heart clenched. Never in his life did he expect someone to say such things to him with the amount of sincerity with which Blaine spoke. He meant every single syllable despite being drunk. Kurt found himself independent of thought and fused with an enormous amount of want and love. It wasn't a normal feeling for him, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it took over in a heartbeat. He kissed the side of Blaine's head, teasing his hands from the death grip around his braces. "Come with me upstairs," Kurt whispered low and straight into Blaine's ear.

The blinking mess of limbs and smiles that was Blaine Anderson seemed to temporarily regain some semblance of alertness and followed Kurt briskly from the room. Half way down the hall, he felt the ground wobble and sway like the fairground rides he'd frequented during his Summer holidays. "Kurt I feel dizzy," he stammered, clutching at thin air, "Kurt?"

They stopped in the darkness. Kurt threaded his arm around Blaine's waist and held him firmly as they began to climb the stairs. "You ok?" he asked, smirking sideways. He was met with two shining eyes and a beaming toothy grin.

"Do you think I'm good looking?" Blaine asked randomly, his brow now knitted with intense thought. It was the very mark of the effect of alcohol, which Kurt was rapidly learning. Whatever thought, however fleeting, passed through Blaine's mind was making itself known on the tip of his tongue. It seemed that honesty wasn't only a characteristic of sober Blaine.

"Of course I do," Kurt said, laughing at the sheer weight of pulling another person up the stairs, "why are you asking me this?"

Blaine groaned, flopping his arm by his side. "It's just you have those eyes and those legs and Thomas is all blonde and muscles and I'm just... just short and curly. Did God just run out of things to give me?"

Kurt began to laugh, infectious and impossible to squash. "First of all, Blaine, I don't think God's the one you need to blame. Blame your parents' genes," Blaine growled with frustration, "and secondly, you may be short and have all of that hair that you insist on covering with all of that grease but what about your eyelashes and smile and hands and arms and eyes and the fact that when you don't slap the grease on it, your hair is to die for?"

Blaine swooned, his smile spreading wider and wider leading right up to his eyes. "You think I'm pretty?"

With a roll of his eyes, Kurt sighed heavily. "Even without any make up on, idiot."

As they pushed their way into Blaine's room, Kurt spotted the sliver of light at the end of the corridor – the Rec room - where the three adults seemingly responsible for the madness down below were no doubt oblivious. He shushed Blaine's laughter as they almost fell in the door.

As Kurt closed it with a barely audible click, he turned to lean his back against the door and watched as Blaine sat on his bed, slipping his shoes off. His heart was racing. He'd spent many a night wondering what other people his age did at parties and how they felt when they were faced with moments not dissimilar to the one he found himself in; however, nothing prepared him for the fact he was shut tight in a room with his boyfriend who was entirely smitten and very adept at running his hands where they shouldn't go.

"Blaine?" he asked, before his brain had the chance to stop him.

A pair of bright hazel eyes found him in the darkness. "Why are you so far away? I miss you already."

Kurt's fingertips were pulsating, his heart hammering blood at a rate he wasn't sure was healthy. Could he be having a heart attack? "I'm here. I just want to check that you're ok."

"I'm happy you're here," he sang, lying back on his bed, drowned in duvet, "in my room, with me." As Blaine began to hum a tune he couldn't place, Kurt edged forward and sat, quite stiffly, by Blaine's side. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable, that wasn't it, he was simply nervous and unsure.

"Can I kiss you?" Blaine asked suddenly, propped up on his elbows with a nervous smile. Immediately, Kurt's anxiety waned at the prospect that Blaine wasn't the only one who was a little tense.

"Yes," Kurt replied, taking a breath and asserting some confidence. He felt his skin shiver with warmth.

Soft and lazy lips found their way to the back of his neck causing a feeling so concentrated and powerful that his breath caught in his throat. Kurt felt his eyes drift closed against his now flushed cheek, a stuttered breath falling from his lips. He turned, pressing himself closer to Blaine, his eyes rolling back at the way it felt to mould his own body against another's. It didn't feel close enough though. In the silence of Blaine's dorm, Kurt could hear is own breathing, the tiny gasps he made at every shift in movement and every single noise that Blaine was making so easily and without the slightest concern.

"Kurt, you're shivering, are you cold?" Blaine asked against his lips, his breath ragged and slightly higher than usual.

Kurt blinked, leaning back. "I'm ... um... I'm just a little um-"

As if Blaine could read his mind, he smirked and leaned close once more, keen to keep his lips in constant contact with at least one part of Kurt's body at a time. It was like nuclear fission, the electric current running wild along the planes of his limbs as Blaine's arms slid up against his chest and wrapped themselves around his neck, drawing him down and back into the pile of cushions at the head of the bed. Kurt felt his entire body give in without a moment's thought. It shocked him momentarily but as Blaine's leg slid over the top of his, tugging him tight, it was all he could do to remember his own name.

He gasped into Blaine's mouth, drawing his face closer with each and every kiss. Messily, they fell to the side, clasping for each other and finding each other in a second. Kurt's back arched as he felt Blaine's hands slide down his braces and begin unbuttoning his shirt.

"Kurt?" Blaine breathed roughly, "Kurt we need to talk about so many things. We need to be very sensible and we need to do things the right way. You need to know."

"What things?"

"Everything," Blaine breathed out, slipping his hand under the hem of Kurt's shirt and splaying his fingers wide as he pulled them together. He smiled lazily, feeling the goose bumps over Kurt's skin.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked, lost entirely in the touch of warm hands all over him. It was as if he lost all grip on reality, his mind sliding free of any rational thought.

"We're special. We need to be special, I mean we need to do things because we're special, right?"

"Blaine. Shut up."

"No, we need to talk about feelings and serious things because it's right. I don't want to pressure you or steal from you or rob you."

Kurt sighed, almost choking back a laugh. "Steal? Blaine what are you talking about?" he asked, suddenly slap bang back in reality. He wriggled free, sitting up with his shirt hanging off his shoulder. It didn't occur to him to adjust it, instead just staring into Blaine's wide eyes.

"Oh god I'm not very good at this. I knew I wouldn't be," Blaine groaned, falling forward to rest his head in Kurt's lap. His fingers sought out Kurt's and wrapped themselves up, holding on tight. He sat back up and took a breath. "I mean sex. That's what I mean. There you go."

Kurt was sure he'd stopped breathing. He thanked the dwarf on the dark side of the moon for the fact that Blaine was steadying his hands as he was sure they'd have shook uncontrollably. "Blaine-"

"No no no no no don't say anything. We can't do it now. It's not right. I can't see you properly and I need to be able to see you because it's important."

"Ok," Kurt asserted, smiling dreamily. He was sure he had the most perfect boyfriend in the world. "Um, well, what now?"

Blaine laughed, pushing Kurt back into the pillows and climbing over his lap so that both knees held Kurt's hips in place. "I think I drank a little too much."

Kurt bit his lip, a smirk toying at his lips. "Obviously."

"I am still me though," he said sweetly, smiling in the most earnest way, his eyes crinkling.

"I know," Kurt whispered. He shocked himself as his hands grabbed the front of Blaine's sweater, bringing him closer in a millisecond. "I like you that way." His lips sought Blaine's and pressed hard and insistent as they rolled to the side in a tangle of legs and arms. Kurt gave up. The nerves that had crackled at his brain at the beginning of the night and as they'd fallen into Blaine's room were gone; he had a boyfriend who, even in a tipsy state, was too brilliant for words. Yes, he was incapable of keeping his hands to himself and was insistent upon kissing till his lips turned numb but Kurt was hardly going to complain about that.

"Kurt-"

"Shhhhhh," he urged, pressing his chest securely into Blaine's arms, his hand fisting into Blaine's messy hair with complete abandon, "we can talk tomorrow. We'll do lots of talking tomorrow."

Please don't think it ends there... it doesn't. There is more to come with this section...

WHY HELLO! My god, I'm so late in posting this Chapter. I feel awful BUT I have a very very good reason. My first set of exams are over now but they have been horrible and insistent for the past few weeks which had meant late nights in the library and a VERY stressed me! I have a couple of weeks of lazy revision so can write on a night as a break... THEREFORE, I do promise better updates. I can only apologise for the sheer LACK of them over the past few weeks.

Before I even begin – EVERYONE MUST SEE THE PICTURE OF DARREN WITH ARMIE HAMMER. I thought I'd seen every photo from that event but NO... I saw it a week or so back and nearly had a fit. The one with Chord cut out (no offence to the lovely Chord but it's better if he's not there for the purposes of this story!) made me RIDICULOUSLY happy. The height difference and general hobbit size of Darren compared to Armie is just EXACTLY how I see Blaine/Thomas and the fact that they're simply TOGETHER in the same photography honestly blew my mind. GO SEE IT!

I've got a few things to mention...

FIRSTLY – PLEASE go see my profile for the AMAZING picture raven-meadowes sent me today. She made a shot of Thomas, which, I swear, made me squeal! It's GLORIOUS. Also, I have been asked if people minded making fan art of this story – ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Good god, please do, it'd make me INSANELY happy.

SECONDLY – I wrote another one-shot "It's All Fiction", which I felt very nervous about posting but it's a definitely different feel to TLT. It was a response to the scene in "Sexy" in Kurt's bedroom. That scene meant so much to me for MANY reasons and I think I wrote what I wanted to in that one-shot. I went with the feel of THIS story and the idea that Kurt has passed MANY of the boundaries in TLT that he HAS yet to pass in canon, therefore, sex isn't AS terrifying to him as it is currently on the show but it's still an ISSUE. I intend to deal with it, just incase people worried I'd turned Kurt into something he's not!

THIRDLY – BURT SAID MECHANICS. Sorry, it just made me giggle how I wrote Blaine to say it in Chapter 36 and then Burt said it in his glorious sex talk. That scene was amazing. Gosh I love Burt.

FOURTHLY – THE KISS. I HAVE NO WORDS FOR THE WONDER AND BEAUTY OF THAT SCENE AND ENTIRE EPISODE. Darren is always more of a musician to me as that's what I knew him as first but he shocked me and left me awe struck as his beautiful performance. It was exceptional and so moving. The tiny nuances of that scene are what make it GORGEOUS. Chris, as always played Kurt to utter perfection. Oh I can barely watch it without sighing happily that OUR KURT has a boyfriend and someone who truly WANTS to touch him, kiss him and spend time with him. *sigh*

THEY ARE DOING PROM. I don't think I need to voice my sheer excitement- really? I don't! EEK!

SO much has happened since I last posted, as it always does, but I just CANNOT wait to see what the end of the hiatus brings... so bloomin' long isn't it?

THANK YOU SO SO SO much for ALL of the continual messages and comments... STILL! I've been writing this thing since November before we even knew if Blaine was sticking around and people are STILL leaving me the nicest messages...! I am so truly grateful and forever speechless at the response this story has had. I can't even say how much your kind words mean to me. So, on that note, I'll go off to work on Chapter 38 *wink*