Closing the door softly behind them, Kurt set his spare pajamas on top of the closed toilet lid while Blaine swayed slightly, eyes closed. His boyfriend's unsteady posture indicated that Kurt made the right choice in deciding to help him change clothes. He felt too afraid of leaving Blaine alone to trip over his pants or pass out and fall over; hitting god knows what fixtures on the way down. As much as he resented playing babysitter like this, it surely beat finding a bleeding, unconscious teenager on his bathroom floor.

Sighing in resignation, Kurt reached towards Blaine's neck, nimble fingers swiftly unknotting the sea foam green bowtie before slipping his fingers underneath all three shirt layers at once, tugging upward. Fortunately the intoxicated boy seemed to register where this was going and lifted his arms, allowing the clothing to slip over his head. Several wisps of hair escaped their gel helmet in the process, adding to his already disheveled appearance. Under normal circumstances Kurt would admire the naked chest before him, but right now all he wanted was to get this whole process over with. Blaine began to lower his arms before Kurt stopped him,

"No, baby. Keep them up."

Blaine whined, and Kurt swiftly snatched the pajama top, jamming it a little roughly down the bare figure, knowing the next step would be even more difficult. Hoping to get everything done as quickly as possible, Kurt made quick work of unbuckling Blaine's belt, kneeling to slide the jeans down to his ankles. Again the shorter teen staggered dangerously, inciting Kurt to use an arm to steady him and the other to carefully lift one foot at a time in order to slip each leg free of the fabric. It hit him how erotic this position would usually be, yet right now he felt far from aroused. Still on his knees Kurt nabbed the flannel bottoms and managed to get them pulled up Blaine's legs with surprising speed and lack of protest.

For the first time since entering the small room, Blaine's eyes opened, staring unfocusedly at Kurt. He continued to smile lazily.

"Thankss."

Kurt tried and failed to smile back, the expression turning into some sort of twisted grimace. He felt thankful now that Blaine probably couldn't see straight.

"You're welcome. Now let's get you to bed."

Shaking his head adamantly and turning slightly Blaine said,

"Mmm, no. Gotta pee."

Kurt watched for a split second while Blaine fumbled with the flannel pants before grabbing his hands.

"Stop. I'm going to help you."

At that Blaine seemed genuinely confused.

"Whaat?"

"Babe," Kurt began, "you can barely stand and I bet you can't see too well. No way am I letting you ruin my bathmats and oak toilet seat."

Kurt knew that Blaine likely couldn't comprehend most, or any, of these words, but at least he stopped moving. For the umpteenth time that night, Kurt sighed, lifting the seat and maneuvering himself behind Blaine. He once hoped that assisting each other in the bathroom would be something they could avoid until reaching old age, because this situation sat pretty high up on his list of things he'd rather not be doing. However, by this point, he accepted that neither of them was getting out of this situation without enduring some level of embarrassment. Bitterly, Kurt thought Blaine might get the luxury of not remembering it in the morning.

Kurt wrapped his left arm around Blaine's waist in an effort to stabilize the swaying boy, while his right hand tugged the pajama pants down to mid-thigh. Sucking in a deep breath, Kurt slipped his fingers through the slit of Blaine's black boxer briefs. While Kurt pulled his boyfriend's dick out of the cotton fabric, Blaine remained seemingly nonplussed. The warm, heavy flesh felt familiar in Kurt's palm, though the circumstances were entirely foreign; the action not one of passion, but rather of unsettling necessity.

Gathering his thoughts just long enough to act, Kurt aimed the member in his hand at the pristinely clean white bowl, nervously whispering in Blaine's ear,

"Ok, baby. Let go."

The only warnings Kurt received came in the forms of Blaine's relieved groan and a slight twitch beneath his own lightly clenched fingers. Though he desperately wanted to close his eyes, the caretaking teen knew that would completely defeat the purpose of his efforts. With blue eyes focused on his hand, wrapped solidly around Blaine's dick, the faintly yellow stream began to arch downward. When the first splash reverberated around the bathroom walls, Kurt shivered, mildly dismayed upon realizing that this reaction was not due to any unpleasant feelings.

Kurt marveled at feeling hot liquid coursing underneath Blaine's skin, combined with hearing the satisfied noises escaping Blaine's somewhat lax mouth and the sheer intimacy of being present for what he always considered to be a private activity. All annoyance forgotten, Kurt registered the involuntary movements in his own briefs. For a moment he panicked; pressed this close to Blaine, he knew that his stirring cock would easily be felt by his partner. Instead of being bitter that Blaine would likely suffer memory loss come morning, Kurt now felt hopeful about this potential outcome. Sternly he attempted to remind himself that Blaine was incapacitated, their current position an act of necessity and that nothing, nothing, about this situation should be remotely erotic.

Apparently, his groin did not agree with his brain.

When the splattering noises became bursts rather than a steady sound, Blaine let his head fall backwards on to Kurt's shoulder, knees loose but with feet now planted more solidly on the floor. It took an absurd amount of effort for Kurt not to pant into the ear resting too close to his mouth or rub against the firm ass pressing into him. Though not quite fully hard, his arousal remained uncomfortably evident. By some miracle Kurt managed to pull himself together, briefly shaking the last droplets of urine from Blaine's dick before tucking it back in to his tight underwear and returning the pajama pants to their original place stretched across those slender hips. Kurt moved forward to replace both seat and lid to their resting position, gently guiding Blaine to sit atop them. After quickly washing his hands, Kurt lightly grabbed his boyfriend by the shoulders, lifting up gently and slowly leading him back to the living room.

Upon reaching the couch Blaine immediately collapsed upon the plush cushions, closing his eyes and burrowing his head into the pillow. Kurt smiled at this adorable motion before pulling the blanket up over the nearly asleep boy and tucking the sides in around his groggy form. Afterward he moved to the kitchen, filling a glass with filtered water that he then set on the coffee table less than two feet away from where Blaine lay. Assured that he did everything possible for the slumbering teen, Kurt returned to the bathroom, brushed his teeth (deciding to skip the moisturizing routine this evening) and somewhat sluggishly trudged downstairs. Fortunately his erection died down as he took care of seeing Blaine safely to bed, and exhaustion now overwhelmed him to the point where sleep was his only priority. He stripped down and donned his own sleepwear before crashing into the mattress with a satisfied grunt. Just under the sleepy haze swam a muddle of emotions, ranging from moderately despaired confusion to intense satisfaction, but blissful darkness overtook him before he truly acknowledged the quagmire of thoughts. In a few hours the sun would rise and a host of questions -his own, his father's and Blaine's- would require answering. For now, Kurt allowed himself to slip in to unconsciousness, vaguely aware that he needed this rest before the inescapable battle waiting for him with the coming of dawn.