When Kurt awoke, he couldn't tell if the sun was rising or setting.

He did know one thing, though.

And that was that he needed to puke right fucking now.

He leaned over the edge of whatever he was on and emptied the contents of his stomach over and over and over. There was a gentle hand on his back and someone had already shoved something that kind of looked like a trashcan in his face. Whoever this angel was, Kurt would be thanking them profusely later.

He kept heaving and spitting and vomit was coming out of his nose too. Ugh and it burned and he was crying because it hurt so much. His stomach muscles were so tense and cramped from all of this and they hurt.

Actually, everything hurt. His head hurt, his hands hurt, his face hurt, his chest hurt.

When everything seemed to be out of his stomach, he continued dry heaving and spitting up bile until he was vowing to never consume anything of any sort, whether it was food or drink, ever, EVER again.

He finally felt like he could function properly after what seemed like a fucking hour and fell back down on…was that a pillow?

It was indeed. It was soft and made his head ache less. It smelled kind of like cinnamon and sandalwood and it seemed like the only smell that wasn't making him sick and –

It smelled like Blaine.

Kurt's eyes flew open.

And there was Blaine, a wet cloth in his hand, wiping away the sick from Kurt's ashen face. Through squinted eyes, he could see how tired the other boy was.

"What-"

A violent cough cut off his sentence and he felt like he'd been a smoker since birth, he was coughing so hard.

"What am I doing here?" he rasped.

"You don't remember anything?" Blaine asked very quietly, for which Kurt was grateful. His head was pounding so damn hard. "Anything at all?"

"I…remember going to the party. And dancing with Brittany and Santana. And being thirsty. It's all…really hazy after that," Kurt described.

Blaine simply nodded and tossed the cloth in the trashcan before bringing another to rest on Kurt's forehead.

"Why am I here, though?" Kurt had to ask. "Were you at the party too?"

"No," Blaine said, fidgeting with a loose thread on the comforter. "Well, I ended up at the party because you called me crying, saying that you were hurt and that you didn't understand what was going on around you."

"I called you?"

"Yeah. We've come to the conclusion that your drink was spiked. I don't know what with, but the girls said you'd only had one drink before you started dancing and that you left your second one behind. We figure someone must have dropped something in it while you were gone."

"…Someone…someone drugged me?"

Blaine nodded solemnly, still not meeting Kurt's eyes. "It may not have even been intended for you, no one knows. Fact is, you left your cup somewhere at a party which is huge foul."

"At least now I understand why that rule exists," Kurt mumbled.

Suddenly Blaine launched himself down on the bed and curled up next to Kurt, holding him as tightly as he dared.

"Don't ever do that to me again, Kurt. Ever," Blaine whispered into his shoulder. "You can't…I was so scared. I thought someone had attacked you and dragged you off somewhere and left you there to die!"

"I'm sorry," Kurt cried. "I don't even remember…I'm so sorry…"

"I'm glad you called me, I am, but oh my god, I thought you were dying in a ditch somewhere. What the hell were you thinking, going to a party like that?"

"I just needed to…to get myself out of that awful place I was in. I'm sorry, Blaine, please…"

"Well next time you need to relieve your depression, go watch some cartoons or something!"

"I didn't plan on getting that drunk, I swear! I remember thinking 'okay, two is enough, I'm done' and then…then nothing."

Kurt could hear Blaine crying softly for a few minutes. He didn't know what to say or do. Was he…were things okay with them now? Could everything go back to how it was before? But a few minutes later, Blaine was sitting up and turning away from him and Kurt immediately missed his warmth.

"This doesn't…doesn't change things. You know that I love you and you know that I'd…be the one to help you, I guess, on some basic level. We're still…at odds."

Wonderful. Well at least that was all cleared up then.

"Okay," was all Kurt could respond.

He saw Blaine's shoulders shudder as he sighed. "I'm gonna call Finn to come and get you," Blaine said, his back still turned. "Just…please don't ever scare me like that again." And then he climbed off the bed, walked out of his room, and shut the door softly.

After that, Kurt nuzzled his face into the pillows, even though moving kind of hurt and every muscle in his body was aching. But the pillows smelled like Blaine and they smelled safe and they smelled like everything that was ever good in his life.

At that moment, he realized he'd do whatever it took to see Blaine smile at him again, even if it was just one more time.

When Finn came to pick him up, his step-brother explained that he'd covered for Kurt, saying he was at a sleepover with a bunch of the girls and he'd damn well better pay him back. Kurt assured him $100 for any kind of snack food he could possibly imagine. That seemed to cheer the taller boy up quite quickly and then he finally asked if Kurt was okay. Yes, Kurt had said, he was fine. He felt like death and there were multiple hours of his life he'd never get back but that was fine because now he knew exactly what he wanted when it came to Blaine, thanks to that whole fucking drunken, drugged fiasco. Because Blaine had been there for him. Just like he'd always been there for him. Come hell or high water, he would fix this.

Come Monday, Kurt still sort of felt like shit and didn't have a perfect plan as to how to go about getting Blaine back into his life. But all day, between every class, he left a single rose between every class period in the vent of Blaine's locker. He'd stand away a bit and watch as Blaine approached it, and he'd see the tiniest of smiles creep onto his lips and it gave him a smidgen of hope.

Jared tried to approach him once but Kurt couldn't deal with him right now. Not for a while.

He wore Blaine's hoodie proudly on Tuesday and on Wednesday he slipped a note in Blaine's bag. He'd worked on it for like, two hours the night before, and even though it was pretty short and even though he knew whatever was said in it would never make up for what he did, he felt that Blaine needed to know that he'd made up his mind.

Blaine,

I am completely aware of the fact that saying I'm sorry doesn't even begin to make up for how much I hurt you with one act of stupidity, so I'll try to be a bit more eloquent and verbose here.

You were right. You were right about everything. It seems that I did need time to stop and think about what I truly wanted. And so I have.

Do I want to step outside of everything we have and see what things are like with another boy? Do I want to know what it feels like to be intimate with someone else? Do I want to risk losing you for the simple sake of having a different or new kind of relationship with someone else? Do I want to watch you walk away?

The answer to all of these questions is no.

I want you. I only want you. It's only ever been you.

I see you in everything. I compare every other boy to you. If some boy smiles at me or laughs at one of my ridiculous jokes, all I can think about is the way you look at me and the way you smile at me or the way you touch me or the way that you make me feel like the most beautiful person in this world.

He meant nothing. The kiss meant nothing. In fact, you were right again when you said that I might have been looking for affirmation. Because that definitely affirmed that it was you I want to be with. And no one else.

I'll wear your ring (and your hoodie) for as long as you let me.

Because you are worth everything.

Every Ounce of Love I Have to Give,

Your Kurt

Kurt sat behind Blaine in Glee club that day and watched him read the letter. He noticed how, when Blaine had read it (at least two or three times because he knew the guy wasn't that slow of a reader), he folded it back up, pressed it to his chest for a few seconds, and then slipped it in the front pocket of the sweater he was wearing instead of shoving it back into his bag.

Though he did not turn and look back at Kurt, Kurt knew he'd made a bit more progress.

By Thursday, Kurt had finally chosen a song to sing. It probably wasn't going to be what anyone expected, but he really felt that it was appropriate. He even hunted for some sheet music to give to Brad, their pianist, so that he could do this properly.

When Glee finally rolled around, his palms were sweating. He'd already told Mr. Schue about his plan so as soon as his teacher walked in, he allowed Kurt to stand in front of the class.

"I'm not even going to pretend like you all don't know what this is about or why I'm up here. Because if ever groveling needed to be done, now is the time. I'm sorry for causing such a disruption to this club because you're all really the best friends I've ever had in my life and I never want any of you to have to choose sides when I'm the one who's at fault," Kurt began before turning his eyes directly on Blaine who was sitting there with a shocked kind of expression that Kurt's never seen before. "This is for you, Blaine Anderson. Because I love you. I love you with everything I am and everything I have to give in this world. This is for you because I hurt you so much that you doubted yourself at a time when I was the biggest idiot on the face of the planet and my mistake had nothing to do with the person that you are. You're amazing. You're beautiful. And you're perfect. I've chosen something to sing to you but it isn't going to be anything along the lines of 'please take me back, I miss you'. Because that whole bit goes without being said. But this…this is for you and I wanted to take the time to remind you just how lovely a person you are. And if you decide that nothing I do can fix any of this, I want you to at least have this song for yourself. Because you were right. You needed to look out for yourself and I was selfish and I didn't want to give you the time that you needed. So I love you. And that's all I have to say. And…I hope you like it," Kurt finished awkwardly. He hated feeling awkward.

He nodded to Brad to signal that he was ready and a beautiful melody filled the air. He quickly pulled up a chair and sat down right in front of Blaine, taking the boy's hands he loved into his own.

And he sang.

Shadows all around you as you

Surface from the dark,

Emerging from the gentle grip

Of night's unfolding arms,

Darkness, darkness everywhere,

Do you feel alone?

The subtle grace of gravity,

The heavy weight of stone,

You don't see what you possess,

A beauty calm and clear,

It floods the sky and blurs the darkness

Like a chandelier,

All the light that you possess

Is skewed by lakes and seas,

Shattered surface, so imperfect,

Is all that you believe.

There was a good thirty seconds of musical break here and Brad continued playing. It was often awkward for someone to simply stand or sit there without moving or doing something during such a long break, but…it didn't seem to matter. Not in this moment. Because Blaine was letting Kurt hold his hands. Their eyes were locked and Kurt kept thinking 'this is for you because you're beautiful and you're everything and I'm sorry I didn't tell you that before, I should have told you every day, but I'm telling you now and I love you and you're perfect, please understand what I'm saying'. He hoped Blaine heard him.

I will bring a mirror,

So silver, so exact,

So precise and so pristine,

A perfect pane of glass,

I will set the mirror up

To face the blackened sky,

You will see your beauty every

Moment that you rise

The piano continued playing. Kurt brushed away a stray tear on Blaine's cheek and smiled sadly. 'It's all for you because you're beautiful in every way, no matter what anyone's ever done to you, no matter what I've done to you, no matter what anyone will ever say to you, you've got a light inside of you and I can't believe I almost made it die, I love you, don't ever change who you are, I'll tell you this every day forever if you'll let me, I love you' he thought.

The music ended. The room was silent and the air was thick and heavy. But Kurt never took his eyes off Blaine. He watched emotions play across his face, watched the shine in his eyes, watched a curl fall, loose and adorable, onto his forehead.

Kurt watched his lips slowly turn upwards into that smile that he so desperately missed.

Even if Blaine didn't take him back, he would keep that smile with him for the rest of his life.

Turns out he didn't have to worry about that, though, because Blaine ripped his hands out of Kurt's and framed Kurt's face and breathed a few words between them, their eyes still trained on each other's.

"You had my heart from that first moment on that staircase."

And he pressed their lips together in the sweetest most delicate and precious of kisses that love ever did produce. It was like water in a desert, a gulp of air after nearly drowning, the last match that lit the candle proper, the drug to the addict, the dew in the morning, the smell after it rains, warmth in a frozen wasteland, and the smell of cinnamon and sandalwood that made every breath worth taking.

And I love, I love…I love you.

On Friday, Kurt extricated himself out from under Blaine's arm at lunch, bravely climbed on the table top and shouted for the entire cafeteria to hear.

"I LOVE BLAINE ANDERSON MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE IN THIS WORLD."

Because that's what you do when you love someone. You want everyone to know. And Kurt decided he really hated himself for not letting Blaine do the same for him last year.

That entire weekend was spent with heavy curtains pulled tight so they were in darkness under soft sheets that smelled like everything good in this world. The air was filled with soft sighs and breathless gasps and ILoveYous. There were gentle fingertips on silken skin and trails of sweat gliding down slight muscles. There were tears in between kisses and smiles in between hisses.

And they memorized each other again with touching and tasting and breathing and breaking down into the most basic form of love there ever was.

They reached for each other again and again and every time it was all passion and skin and moans and Kurt and Blaine.

The world righted itself on its axis that weekend.

"Well you seem a shit load happier," Burt Hummel commented when Kurt walked through the front door on Sunday night.

"I'm amazing. I'm wonderful," Kurt twirled around in the living room. "And I feel like eating pizza and baking brownies and giving to the poor."

"You're finally going to go through your closet, then?" his father asked incredulously.

Kurt stopped dead. "I said that's how I felt, not what I planned on doing." He turned around and hummed to himself all the way down to his room.

Burt smiled to himself. He didn't know what all went down, but if Kurt was humming and smiling and snarky again, then that was all that mattered.