The morning was like any other after-party morning, a room full of sleepy people with hangovers. Blaine seemed to be the worst. As soon as he opened his eyes he just ran towards the closest bucket and starting throwing up uncontrollably. Sadly, he couldn't reach the bucket in time and got a considerable amount of vomit on the carpet. Everyone else in the room groaned. Rachel ran to the bathroom shortly after to throw up herself. Kurt couldn't decide if she was reacting to the alcohol or if she was reacting to the glum on the floor. Mercedes was snoring softly so Kurt thought it was safe to assume she was asleep. He quickly went to the kitchen, grabbed a wet cloth and a glass of water and headed back to where Blaine was. Kurt found him lying on his back, asleep again.

"Oh Blaine, if you lie down like that and you throw up again you will choke." He slowly started lifting Blaine into a sitting position. Kurt sat down crossed legged next to Blaine and Blaine reacted by slumping his whole body onto Kurt, his head resting on his shoulder. His legs draped across Kurt's lap and his arms shaking in his own lap. Kurt pressed the wet cloth to Blaine's forehead. He wiped the remaining vomit off of Blaine's mouth and Kurt wrapped his arm around Blaine's waist.

"Blaine, if you do throw up again. I kindly ask that you do it in the bucket and not over me. Now drink this water. You will feel better." And with that he placed the glass of water at Blaine's mouth and had to somehow tilt his head and tilt the glass at the same time. After Blaine had finished it he rested his head against Kurts shoulder once more. He grumbled a word really quietly.

"What?"

"..bed. Sleepy."

It was only 6:47am so Kurt guessed he could let Blaine sleep a bit. So he scooped him up in his arms. He was a lot heavier than he seemed, but as soon as he was in Kurt's arms he nuzzled his nose against the crook of Kurt's neck. It tickled ever so slightly and Kurt couldn't help but smile down at the adorable (albeit hungover) boy clinging onto his pajama top. He's shivering, but he's still topless from last night. Kurt's eyes can't help but linger on the curly hair on his bare chest. He wants to touch it. So bad. But no. He can't be having those thoughts now. Not after he just witnessed this person puke his guts out a few minutes ago. He gently lowers Blaine back into the single bed he slept in last night. He doesn't know what comes over him when he brushes Blaine's sweaty hair out of his face and kisses his forehead very lightly. But then Blaine's wrist grabs his with an impossible force and tugs him closer.

"Stay. With me. Scared." Blaine whimpered, his breath warm on Kurt's neck. He tries his very hard to say no. Blaine is probably still drunk. If he cuddles up in bed with him again it will only make his feelings worse. Blaine could very well throw up again any second. He can think of a million reasons why this is a bad idea.

"Of course."

And with that Blaine weakly scooches over to make room for Kurt and then they are both in the same bed again. Kurt lay there awkwardly. He is really hot. Blaine's body is radiating so much heat. Kurt can't stop sweating and Blaine seems to notice.

"You know you can take your top off…to make…to make it less hot."

He doesn't know what get's him to do it but suddenly there they are, in the same bed…both with their tops off. Suddenly Kurt notices Blaine's eyes on him and he feels really self-conscious of the fact that he is so pale and not toned and muscular and hairy like Blaine. So he rolls over and his back is towards Blaine. He doesn't know why it happens but his eyes start watering and he has to bite his lip down very hard to not cry. He can still feel Blaine's eyes on him, despite the fact that he is not looking at him. He feels a finger gently stroke his spine and it makes him shiver.

"Kurt can…can you hold me?" Of course Kurt nods. Who is he to say no to the boy he is most definitely in love with. Even if it's just something Blaine saw as what friends do. So he turns around and suddenly Blaine's arms are around his waist, holding on for dear life, and his head buried deep in Kurt's chest, his nose almost stroking the bit of skin right under his neck. Kurt doesn't really know what to do with his arms, he realizes, so he settles for wrapping them around Blaine's neck. But Blaine is buried into his chest so deep he has to settle for hugging Blaine's head.

"Dizzy, Kurt. I feel so dizzy." Blaine whimpers, looking into Kurt's eyes for a split second before shutting them tightly and burying his face further into Kurt's chest, if that's even possible. Kurt tightens his grip around Blaine's head. He buries his nose into those curls that had let themselves loose sometime in the night. He simply shushed Blaine, stroking the back of his neck soothingly; occasionally giving Blaine's head a quick peck. Not because he felt he had to. Not because he was madly in love with him. But because it had felt right to him.

No, not like this, though. Not with Blaine throwing his guts up after drinking too much. Not whilst he's in this state of confusion. Not whilst he's probably still feeling drunk. But right now Kurt doesn't care. Blaine needs him. He needs someone to lull him to look after him. He needs some sense of protection. He needs his friend. So he holds him like that until he falls asleep. When he is sure that Blaine is asleep he lets out a big sigh.

Kurt didn't want this to happen like this. He didn't want to cuddle with Blaine because if he didn't Blaine would probably end up throwing up all over his face. Instead every time he needed to throw up, he would tell Kurt, he'd bring them both to a sitting position, grab the bucket and get Blaine to get all of the contents coming out of him into the bucket. Whenever Blaine was done with throwing up, Kurt would get up and get him a wet-cloth and a glass of water, clean him up and make him down the water. They would go back to being pressed together afterwards, almost as if nothing had happened. As if the only reason they were doing this was because they wanted to, not because Blaine needed to be looked after.

This was defiantly one of the longest mornings of Kurt's 17 years of living.