It was never a good sign when Kurt asked him to do anything remotely connected to his McKinley friends. Never.

"Soooo, Wesley," he drawled, dragging himself up to lie next to him on his bed.

"Yes?" He answered in a bored tone, not looking up from his geography textbook.

"It would seem, dearest Wesley," he stated, propping his chin on his hands, "that Rachel is holding a party."

"A party," he echoed, not really paying attention.

"Yes, surprisingly enough,a party. And I was wondering..."

"Hmm?"

"Ifyou'dbewillingtogowithmeandBlaine," he spit out, staring determinedly at the bed cover.

Wes tore his gaze from the book, raising an eyebrow at him skeptically. "Come again?"

Kurt almost seemed to wince at the question.

"I've already called and asked Blaine, and he agreed. I'm worried he's planning to get drunk, so I was hoping you might be willing to come along, just in case it does come to that," he explained.

He considered. He'd met the New Directions group on several occasions, and wasn't quite sure he could deal with the intoxicated insanity sure to occur, but...

As he and David had discovered a year ago, Blaine was a clumsy drunk. A clumsy, loose-tongued, hilarious drunk that didn't resemble the put-together, usual dapper Blaine in the slightest.

This could be the perfect chance to catch his drunken ramblings on video, a prospect he couldn't resist.

"All right," he sighed, burying his nose back in his book. He desperately tried to ignore the avid squealing that was being done directly in his ear to no avail.

"Thank you!" Kurt gasped, face flushed a delicate red. Not that Wes bothered to notice, of course.

"Well, this is a drag," Wes said under his breath at the state of the place.

Kurt elbowed him. "Just because it isn't up to your standards, Wesley..."

"Actually, he's right," Blaine stated from Kurt's other side.

Blaine was agreeing? With him?

Sad as it was, Blaine had become all the more increasingly bad-tempered as of late, snapping at everyone, especially Wes. He had even attempted to do so to Kurt, only to be stopped short by a hard slap to his cheek that had lhe eft a red mark for days afterwards.

Now he merely stuck to quiet grumbling, eying Wes murderously.

Yet another wonderful aspect of the existence of Kurt Hummel in his life:Ruins closest friendships. Lovely.

"This party really does suck," Blaine was saying, to be received with a glare from Kurt.

"This is her first proper party," he said defensively.

"Not what most teenagers would define as proper," Blaine muttered.

That's when Puck brought in the real alcohol from the liquor cabinet.

A half hour later, and Wes was quite happy with the footage he'd obtained with the camera on his cell phone, and with the knowledge that there was more to come, judging from the way Blaine was throwing himself about.

The party was...interesting, he'd leave it at that. He, Finn and Kurt, the only ones not drunk out of their minds, stood by themselves off to the side, talking over the volume of the music.

"You're, like, Kurt's roommate, right?" Finn asked him.

"Unfortunately," he called back. And there was Kurt's elbows in his ribs for the second time that night.

"When'd you get so freaking violent?" he complained, rubbing his aching sides. Kurt just gave him a look before turning to speak with Finn, who, Wes had learned earlier, was his step-brother.

Over came Blaine, draping himself across Finn as he leered at Kurt. Finn seemed to notice this as well, struggling to untangle Blaine's hands from his shoulders.

Blaine rambled something about brothers obliviously before staggering off, only to fall, giggling hysterically, onto the floor.

And yes, Wes was still getting all this on his camera.

Finn went to join Rachel, leaving the two of them standing there in awkward silence.

"I never would have thought Blaine would ever let himself become such a mess in public, " Kurt said, sporting an amused grin.

He snickered at that. "You should see him without his hair gel, then. It's terrifying."

"Who wants to play spin the bottle!" Rachel was calling, bottle in hand as she stood up on the makeshift stage.

Kurt grimaced. "Think we should go?"

"Probably," he stated, slowly nodding his head, "to make sure Blaine doesn't molest your step-brother, if anything."

Kurt choked at that, snorting loudly as they took their places in the circle.

The game went round and round, nearly all of the contestants paired off at some point or another.

Wes, much to his own relief, had only been landed on once, forcing him to press a quick peck to the lips of a girl Kurt had labelled Mercedes, who was currently chuckling away absentmindedly, eyes glazed.

Kurt hadn't been kissed yet, though seeming to prefer it that way.

And then it happened. Blaine, in all his drunken glory, began making out with Rachel, and loudly.

Kurt looked, well, rather disgusted at the sight. "And here I thought Blaine was gay," he muttered, leaning over to speak directly in his ear.

"So did I," he stated, making a face.

Finally, finally, they pulled away, Rachel staring after Blaine in a daze.

"Your face...tastes awesome," she said, clearly awestruck. Kurt rolled his eyes, scoffing slightly.

Kurt wasn't the only one annoyed by the whole fiasco, from the glares Finn was sending Blaine.

Grinning deliriously, Blaine spun the bottle, only for it to land on himself.

Catcalls and whistles, along with, "You're getting lucky to-night, Blaine Warbler!"

He spun again, only for it to land...

...on Kurt.

The above mentioned boy instantly paled, almost seeming to shrink in on himself.

"No," Finn said loudly, ignored by the others.

"You don't have to do this," Wes whispered to him, noting the panicked look that had dawned on his features, "Kurt-"

Blaine, not having noticed Kurt's reluctance, was looking at him in that way again,that almost predatory way that made Wes want to punch him. Cocking his head, Blaine leaned forward, quickly capturing Kurt's lips with his own.

Wes was freaking pissed. Blaine was assaulting Kurt with his lips. He, was clearly trying to move away, caught by Blaine's hands, one around his neck, the other forcefully cupping his face.

Both he and Finn moved at the same time, shoving the two apart. Blaine went tumbling backwards, smiling to himself.

Kurt...Kurt had the most terrified expression on his face, one hand pressed to his mouth. A small whimper escaped him, his shoulders shaking slightly.

Wes was going to kill Blaine, who didn't look the least bit remorseful in what he'd done.

That is, if Finn didn't get to him first. With a lunge, the huge boy tackled Blaine, fist snapping forward to meet his skull.

Instantly aware, the others backed off, only Artie moving forward to separate the two. Blaine was already out, eyes rolled back in his skull as Finn pounded on him.

Turning his attention back to Kurt, he hesitantly reached a hand out.

"...Kurt?" He asked quietly, the way he would speak to a frightened animal.

He shook his head, avoiding Wes' eyes. "Can we...can we go now?" His voice trembled slightly as he wiped at his eyes, clearly trying not to cry.

Barely suppressing the pure rage rising up inside him, he nodded, gently pulling him up to a standing position.

"Keys?" He questioned. He handed them to him wordlessly, still keeping his eyes away from Wes' face.

He walked over to Finn, who was currently sitting by himself, knuckles smeared with blood.

"I'm taking Kurt back to Dalton. I figure the last thing he needs is to be interrogated by his parents," he said, drawing Finn's attention,"so if you could, you know, see if anyone would let him crash at their house, I'd appreciate it."

"Yeah," he said, staring off, "I'm pretty sure I'd kill him in his sleep if he stayed at ours. What should I tell the 'rents?"

Wes shook his head. "I'd let Kurt tell them what happened when he's comfortable. Just say that he decided it was too dark to drive back when he dropped me off, okay?"

He nodded again, twisting his fingers as he glared at the still form of Blaine.

"Thanks," he grumbled. He figured that was the best response he was going to get out of the tall boy.

Placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder, he guided him outside, and into the car.

God, he really hated these awkward silences. It was made all the worse by what had just happened, looming in the air like a black cloud.

Kurt had curled up in the passenger seat, drawing his knees up to his chest as he stared out the window.

"...You know that guy, Karofsky?" He asked suddenly.

Wes glanced over at him fro a moment. Yes, he remembered. The jock, Blaine had told him, that had driven Kurt so heartlessly from McKinley. He gave a small nod in affirmation.

"I stood up to him," he said quietly,"I stood up to him like Blaine told me to, right after we first met."

And there was that urge to throttle him again. Very smart, Blaine, tell him to stand up to the jock that's more than likely twice his size.

"I chased him down into the locker room," Kurt continued, "and he, he kissed me. A week later, h-he told me he'd kill me if I told anyone." He swallowed hard at that. "I told Blaine."

The full horror of those statements dawned on Wes after a few seconds.

Good God, just how much had Kurt dealt with in life?

His mind caught up to that second sentence and what it revealed.

Blaine knew. Blaine knew that the jock had forced a kiss on him and had done the same damn thing anyway.

He closed his eyes, willing himself to resist the urge to hit something.

Preferably Blaine's face.

But Kurt didn't need him flying into a rage right now. Kurt, who looked as if he was seconds from bursting into hysterics.

Not saying anything, Wes pulled into a random parking lot, stopping the car as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

He held out his arms. "Come here."

"What?" Kurt was staring at him as if he'd grown another head, eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Come. Here. I'm not going to ask again, you know."

Suddenly seeming to understand, Kurt slithered over, placing himself gingerly in his lap before burying his face in Wes' shoulder, arms wound tight enough around him to cut off circulation.

Within a few moments he was sobbing, fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt in a near death grip. Wes just rubbed comforting circles in his back, not saying anything.

After only a few minutes, Kurt recovered, taking in a deep, shaky breath as he pried himself of him. "Thank you," he whispered, looking embarrassed at his own outburst. Shuddering, he moved back to his own seat, moving back to his original position.

Wes started the car again, still silent as they drove back onto the main road.

A good thirty minutes away from Dalton, and Wes found himself getting distracted. Looking over, he found himself studying Kurt: the pink cheeks, slightly red-rimmed eyes, ruffled hair. Faint light filtered in through the window, slanting across his face.

Beautiful.

Wes blinked at the word that entered his mind, surprised, because, honestly, he'd only ever used that word to describe females. But it fitted Kurt right at that moment.

And then it hit him, like a ton of bricks.

He'd only ever heard one other person describe Kurt as beautiful. Blaine, just after meeting the brunette.

Blaine, who despite having hurt Kurt, was completely enamored with him. Blaine, who was constantly looking at Kurt like he was the only person in the room.

Fuck. If the previous realization had been a ton of bricks, this one was a freaking heavy-duty monster truck, smacking him right in the face.

He liked Kurt. Liked him in an utterly non-platonic way. He annoyed the hell out of Wes, but he found himself attracted to Kurt anyway.

His life was so totally screwed to hell.

"Wes?" And there was Kurt himself, watching him worriedly.

And it occurred to him just how inappropriate those feelings were right now, right when he had just been scared out of his freaking mind, and was only just beginning to calm down.

This was not good. This was not good at all.

Giving him a reassuring smile, he forced himself to settle, to put aside his thoughts for right now because, Goddammit, Kurt needed him right now.

He could wait, no matter how long it took, to address his feelings.

He'd gotten Kurt changed and sleeping in his bed, face peaceful for the first time since the incident when he himself had fallen asleep, pure exhaustion alone bringing him into slumber.

Screaming. Frantic, high pitched screaming. Instantly fully awake, he sat up, looking over to see Kurt writhing in his bed, clawing desperately at the air.

He leaped over, shaking him in a desperate attempt to wake the boy up. "Kurt, come on, Kurt! You're okay, you're at Dalton, wake up!"

Kurt stilled against the sheets, eyes flitting open for a second before he recognized Wes, pressing his face into his collarbone, wrapping himself around him.
His heart broke there, at that.

They fell asleep that way, tangled together.

Blaine swallowed hard, hesitantly knocking on the door before tentatively stepping in, only to move back at the sight that met his eyes.

Wes' eyes opened, taking in his appearance before scowling darkly at him. He squirmed out of Kurt's embrace, careful not to wake him up before walking over to him, softly shutting the door before turning to face him.

"Yes?" His tone was pure ice. Blaine's head throbbed, a sort of punishment for what he'd done.

"Can I talk to him?" He already knew the answer.

"No." A slight pause. "I might pass on a message."

He massaged his temples, wincing in pain. "I'm sorry. God, I'm fucking sorry."

Wes' face was impassive. "And?"

"I was drunk," he began, "and-" "That's no excuse," Wes interrupted, eyes glittering.

"I know."

Wes just stared at him, making him shift uncomfortably under his gaze before finally speaking.

"Do you have any idea what you did? Kurt trusted you, and you went and did the same freaking thing as the jock that chased him out of his home." His voice rose."You have no idea how tempted I am to kick you in the balls right now, but Kurt wouldn't like that, for whatever reason."

His expression was stony. "Do you even care that I woke up in the middle of the night to find Kurt screaming in terror, in the middle of a nightmare?"

He swallowed hard at that, regret clawing at his chest."I really screwed everything up, didn't I?"

Wes nodded at that. "You did."

"I'm sorry," he offered.

"You should be."

What else was there to be said? It was a lost cause. Sighing, he turned and walked away, Wes' eyes boring holes in his back.

Making a face, Wes walked back to the bed, sitting beside Kurt's sleeping form. He combed his fingers through his usually immaculate hair, lips tilting upwards at the small, sleepy sound of contentment he made as he nuzzled up into Wes' hand.

And maybe Wes did smile at that, just a bit.

Where did this angst come from?

I started to write this, thinking it would turn out totally fluffy like the rest of the chapters, and THIS happened.

So angsty...

Still, Wes realized he like Kurt, so it was worth it! And, this is my longest chapter so far, about 3,000 words!

Here's to hoping that this didn't make you hate Blaine. :/ Let's just say he's only an asshole when he's drunk, 'kay?

Hope you enjoyed this! Glee is NOT MINE.

Reviews=Love.

-Mel