It had been the Greatest. Party. Ever.

Kurt's friends were really cool. It had felt awkward at first, not really knowing everyone so well, but once everyone started drinking, people were super nice to Blaine. He'd really only hung out with Mercedes once before and she hadn't really had much to say, but tonight she was laughing at his jokes and being so sweet. Blaine thought most of the guys were pretty hot and would have been more than happy to have landed on any of them during spin-the-bottle, although from what he knew they were all straight.

Kissing Rachel had been... interesting. At first he had just thought it was funny, but somehow when he felt her lips touch his, he just wanted it to... continue. She was soft. It felt good. He really had never thought about girls much before, except for about two weeks in first grade when he wanted to marry his teacher. But if he was straight, he guessed maybe Rachel would be the kind of girl he'd go for. She was obviously crazy talented. And she had sort of stumbled into him at one point to gush about how good he'd been at Sectionals- it was just so flattering coming from her.

It didn't matter, really, because obviously it was just a silly game and Kurt had confided that she was into his stepbrother- but it gave him pause. He was so confused lately, about life and what he wanted, about dealing with his dad's constant lectures, about the embarrassing mess that was the Gap Attack- things were just all wrong lately. It was just so nice to have a night where he could just do what he wanted and be a teenager without a care in the world.

He did have a couple cares the next morning, though. Kurt's father woke him up and it took him a second to even recognize where he was. He sort of figured it out and fell directly back to sleep, not waking up again for an hour or two.

When he did really wake up he felt. like. death. He'd never really had a hangover before, at least not like this. He hadn't had that much to drink- had he? Disgustedly rubbing his own drool from his fingers, Blaine shuffled to the bathroom, tripping over Kurt's rug on the way. That was a loss of equilibrium, he discovered, that his stomach really didn't like right now.

Ugh.

He tried to remember the trip from Rachel's house to Kurt's. He couldn't. The last thing he could remember was singing karaoke with Rachel, tripping over something and landing on the floor- which had seemed hysterical at the time. Right now he felt a little nervous about it, wondering if Kurt's friends had seen that and thought he was an idiot.

Finally reaching the bathroom, he steadied himself at the sink, glancing up at his image in the mirror.

Wow. I look like hell.

His hair was everywhere, his face looked green.

Good thing Kurt and I are just friends, if I had a boyfriend I'd never want him to see me like this.

The thought of Kurt did bring back a flash of memory of last night. He had been shakily climbing up the Hummel staircase, Kurt whispering for him to shut up and attempting to steady his gait. "You're going to wake up Dad and Carole!" he shushed. Blaine remembered stifling a little laugh at that as they (well, he) stumbled into Kurt's room. He remembered reaching a hand out to pet at Kurt's cheek, holding his gaze while his body kind of swam in place.

"I'm not going to get you in trouble, am I?" he had asked, seriously.

"No, Blaine, it's fine. My dad wouldn't want my friends driving home drunk."

For some reason that made Blaine feel all mushy. "Your dad," he cooed, "Is like the best dad on the whole of America. My dad would never understand about this. He's just- he never lets me do anything. He acts like I'm twelve years old." Kurt nodded patiently and gingerly removed Blaine's hand from his face. "And you, Kurt..." Blaine pointed and backed up until his leg his Kurt's bed and then laid across it. "Kurt, you're the nicest, most... compassionate..." he laid his hand to his heart but his brain felt too fuzzy to find an end to the sentence.

Kurt pulled off Blaine's shoes. He hadn't really expected they would both be sleeping in his bed. But then it wasn't like he had a sleeping bag handy. It seemed rude to put him on the floor. He hadn't thought this through, exactly. "Yeah. I'm uh, great, Blaine. Now you need to sleep."

Blaine sort of crab-crawled his way back to a pillow and haphazardly pulled the blanket out from under himself, giggling at how challenging that was to do. He couldn't focus on one thought, instead his mind swam around at random.

God I'm drunk.

Kurt's so nice.

I want a dad like his...

I bet other teenagers don't have to do their own laundry all the time.

He dropped his head into the pillow, only vaguely aware of Kurt's movements around the room, pulling out pajamas and starting his nighttime moisturizing routine before his thoughts became entirely hazy and he passed out completely.