Kurt awoke to a mind flooded with memories of the previous evening. He groaned and rolled over to look at the alarm clock. It was just past 7:30am, so he can't have gotten more than a few hours of sleep, but at least he would likely be awake before Blaine. Unfortunately, the odds were very good that Burt was already awake. As he fell asleep not too long before now, Kurt knew the upcoming morning would involve multiple uncomfortable conversations, but that knowledge did not mean he felt prepared for them. When it came to lying to his family, he always proved terrible at it, so he rarely even tried. Especially this time around, when his emotions were already so messed up from everything that happened with Blaine, lying would prove all the more difficult. However, the alternative was admitting to his dad that Blaine was drunk. Of course, that admission would lead to questions about Kurt's own actions and the company he kept.

Rubbing his eyes, Kurt recognized there would be no winning this particular battle, and he might as well leave the safety of bed and get these encounters over with. Reluctantly he lifted the sheets, briefly pausing before the mirror on his way upstairs to make sure his hair wasn't entirely out of control. He padded softly past the couch, grateful to find Blaine snoring softly, but dread pooling in his stomach as he approached the kitchen. Confirming his fears, Kurt saw Burt seated at the dining room table adjoining the kitchen, newspaper in hand and mug of coffee placed beside him. Burt looked up at the sound of footsteps, his face expressing nothing but mildly terrifying calm, and his son stopped in his tracks the instant their eyes locked.

"So, you planning on telling me what's going on," Burt said in a tone that was less of a question and more of a demand.

For the second time in less than five minutes, Kurt's fists pressed against his eyelids as he asked,

"Yes. Can I please fix my coffee first?"

Burt studied his son for a moment before replying,

"Yeah, sure. But then you're going to sit down and explain."

Grateful for some time to stall, Kurt took a few minutes adding cream and sugar to the black liquid. Normally he didn't like drip coffee, but this morning simply would not happen without some amount of caffeine in his system. As he moved at a tortoise-like pace, Burt continued to read the paper. The only sounds in the room were an occasional twitch of newsprint or quiet shutting of a cupboard door. Once the milk was replaced in the fridge and the sugar set back in its usual spot, Kurt found himself with no choice but to sit down next to his dad. Seated with his steaming cup cradled in his hands, Kurt gathered the nerve to look at Burt, who appeared to be finishing an article before neatly folding the newspaper on the table and turning to the teenager.

"Alright. Start talking."

Kurt drew a deep breath before beginning,

"Ok, you know we were at Santana's last night."

Burt nodded and Kurt continued,

"Well, we lost track of time, and when we finally left it was really late."

His dad looked utterly nonplussed so Kurt rushed to proceed with his lie,

"I didn't want to risk taking Blaine home and accidentally waking up his parents. I mean, dad, you know what they're like..."

At this Burt scowled. He met the Andersons a couple of times, and while he never outright expressed his dislike of Blaine's folks, he also didn't take much care to mask the disapproval that crossed his face at their mention. Part of the reason he welcomed Blaine with such open arms was due to his recognition of the lack of parental support in that household.

Kurt felt a pang of guilt for lying like this. The reality was that Blaine's parents weren't even home this weekend, so they wouldn't notice their son's absence; although, in many ways, this proved his point even more. Unfortunately, it meant that Kurt's only real motivation for the risky move of bringing his boyfriend home without warning was the fact that he didn't trust the boy to make it through the night alone. That was a fact he desperately hoped to hide from his dad.

After a few heavy seconds, Burt said,

"Ok, yeah, I can understand that. Still, I don't like that you brought him here without warning me. Did you at least contact his parents?"

"Yes," Kurt fibbed, possibly a little too quickly, "Blaine texted his mom before we left, because she turns her phone off at night, so she'll see it when she wakes up."

Kurt paused before deciding to add,

"You know they probably wouldn't notice he was gone, anyway."

Burt nodded tersely, a troubled expression still haunting his face. Kurt felt terrible about spinning this tale, partly because it was so easy, because the little details were entirely believable. Guiltily, he felt a small amount of relief, because his dad seemed to buy into it.

"I believe you, kiddo," Burt began, causing another pang of guilt to surge through Kurt, "but I don't want this to become a regular thing."

"I understand, dad. I don't plan on it."

Picking up the abandoned newspaper and unfolding it, Burt nodded once at his son.

"You should wake him up and get him home. I'd like to avoid a phone call from either of his parents if they find out where he's been."

"They both left for work early this morning—I doubt they even noticed," Kurt added as one last lie, "but I'll go get him now."

Relieved that Burt at least appeared to believe his story, Kurt drained the remainder of his coffee, placing his empty mug in the sink before moving to the living room. Blaine continued to snooze on the couch and Kurt hated to wake him, both because his boyfriend looked so peaceful and because he couldn't muster much excitement about the inevitable conversation he would soon need to engage in with the hungover boy. Kurt knelt on the carpet near Blaine's shoulder, softly shaking his frame and whispering his name. The curly haired head finally jolted sharply, hazel eyes snapping open blearily.

"Huh... wha... where... Kurt?" Blaine stammered.

Kurt smiled softly.

"Morning, honey. You're on my couch. I'm going to take you home now."

Blaine closed his eyes again, hand moving to clutch his forehead as he groaned quietly; clearly he felt the effects from last night's antics.

"Your clothes are in the bathroom, and I can get you some water and Tylenol before we go. Do you want any food?"

At the mention of food, Blaine let out a pained noise,

"No food. The rest sounds good."

Kurt stood up to move away from the couch as Blaine unsteadily extricated himself from the blanket to swing his feet to the floor. After a few deep breaths he straightened up and headed towards the bathroom. Once the door closed, Kurt picked up the pillow and blanket from the couch and rushed back to his room to throw on clothes. It was unlike him to pay so little attention to an outfit, but he wouldn't even be getting out of the car, and Blaine was currently in no state to judge him. He grabbed two Tylenol capsules before heading back upstairs, rightly guessing that Blaine would be moving slower than him. Kurt waited patiently, grateful that no one else wandered in to the living room. Carole was sleeping in and, with any luck, Finn would probably be out for another few hours, since god knows when he ended up leaving the party, let alone how much more he drank beforehand. Thank goodness for small miracles, right?

Finally Blaine reemerged, walking to where Kurt sat waiting with the water and pills. Blaine swiftly downed both, grimacing slightly as he set the glass back on to the table.

"Can we just go?" he requested in a gruff voice.

"Sure," Kurt answered, grabbing his boyfriend's slightly clammy hand. Wallet and keys already nestled in his pockets, he gingerly led Blaine out to the driveway, carefully monitoring him as he struggled somewhat to hoist himself up in to the Navigator. Assured that Blaine was safely situated, Kurt climbed in to the driver's seat. As soon as the car started, Blaine closed his eyes, clearly expressing a desire for silence. At a loss for anything to say anyway, Kurt gladly obliged. Only when they pulled into the Anderson's driveway and Kurt cut the engine did Blaine's eyelids flutter open, head turning to face the driver. Neither boy said anything for a moment before Kurt broke the tense atmosphere stifling the small space,

"Can you make it inside?"

"Yeah. Thanks," Blaine breathed.

"Ok," Kurt unsteadily began, "but later today when you don't feel like dying anymore, you need to call me, alright?"

"Ok," was all Blaine said before unbuckling and shakily making his way to the front door. Kurt waited until he saw the door close before starting the car and making his way back home. He felt exhausted from lack of sleep and excess of thoughts, and he hoped for a few merciful hours of naptime before handling the conversation with Blaine looming before him.