12:47am

In hindsight, Blaine really should have said no. The whole idea reeked of chaos the second Kurt mentioned it. But when Kurt was giving him that face, the one he knows works every freaking time, how was he supposed to say no?

…

August 4, 2012

11:03am

"This is nice," Kurt murmured, snuggling closer.

Blaine nodded absently, too overwhelmed with happiness at the situation to say anything.

Sleepovers had become a thing for them, whether it be at Kurt's house or Blaine's; it was rare that they ever spent a night separated, which proved great for the now almost non-existent dark circles under Kurt's eyes. Laurel and Kurt's dad and stepmom weren't very thrilled with the fact that their boys were virtually never apart, voicing such opinions out loud on numerous occasions, but the way Blaine and Kurt saw it, they were going to be with each other pretty much all day every day in New York, too. They had a lot of overlapping classes (being the same major and classification), they lived in the same dorm building (although Blaine was the floor above Kurt), so it would basically be the same when they left for New York in three weeks anyway.

Three weeks. Blaine almost couldn't believe it. He was leaving for New York in just three short weeks. When he graduated, he was dreading the summer. He thought that it was going to just be his summer classes, and then a whole lot of nothing. Probably just sitting around the house all day, not doing anything productive, wasting away perfectly good Ohio summer days. But the universe had better plans for him. Right at the beginning, he met Kurt, and he'd never been more grateful for anyone to come into his life like Soulmate had. Maybe with the exception of Laurel.

He felt Kurt nudge his head even closer, practically nuzzling Blaine's neck as they lay together, their limbs tangling together and making them into one person. "Just imagine us doing this every day for the rest of our lives."

Apparently, that had also become a thing. They were only together for a couple months, but to them, that was nothing; especially when you think of the fact that they're going to be together for the rest of their lives anyway. Because that was how they saw it now. Once Kurt had casually mentioned a wedding, and Blaine responded with a casual mention of their future, it was like an unspoken agreement that Yes, you are the one for me; I love you and I will continue to love you every day for forever.

It reminded Blaine of a song. What was it? Something about a thousand years. Oh. Duh.

Absentmindedly, Blaine began to hum it, prompting Kurt to ask, "What's that song?"

"'A Thousand Years' by Christina Perri."

Kurt pulled away just a couple inches to lift his face up to Blaine's. "And why would you be getting that song into your head, hmm?"

In lieu of an answer, Blaine sang.

I have died every day
Waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid
I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you
For a thousand more

He concluded the first part of the chorus by closing the inch or so between their faces, attaching his lips to Kurt in a silent promise. As always, Kurt got his message loud and clear, and kissed back with just as much passion, somehow still keeping it gentle. This was just one of a myriad of things that Blaine loved about him; his kisses.

Blaine was the one to break it, staring at Kurt like he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. That's because he is.

"I like that song," Kurt whispered.

Blaine replied just as quietly, "Me too."

This moment, just like so many between them, seemed to hinge on the fact that everything was soft, gentle, quiet. Their moments of love were always legato and piano, if Blaine was going to speak in a language he was familiar with. When music was legato and piano, it was just like this; soft and quiet and continuous and just flowing like a calm stream in the forest. That was exactly how they were in that moment; legato, piano.

Kurt reached one of the arms between his and Blaine's body to touch a hand to Blaine's face, stroking his temple with his thumb. "You think too much."

"Only about you," Blaine said. "It's only ever about you."

"Are you saying I'm all you think about?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Blaine chuckled, kissing Kurt's forehead. As much as he really didn't want to leave this bed, he knew it was inevitable. It was about to be noon on a Saturday. They had a whole day to be lovey-dovey together, they might as well go on a few adventures while doing so.

"Let's do something exciting today," Blaine suggested.

"Like what?" Kurt asked, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Blaine laughed internally at the fact that his boyfriend shaped his eyebrows.

"I dunno. We could…dress up really nicely, pretend to be married, and test-drive cars at a car dealership and go to open houses and stuff."

"Don't you think that will take some of the magic away from when we actually are married and we really do go look for cars and houses?"

He considered it for a few seconds, then decided Kurt was right, as always. "Okay…so, then…Let's go around the city and draw hearts with equations inside on random things."

"Cute, but I'm almost certain that's also vandalism. You can't just draw on public property, Blaine."

"Little kids do it all the time."

"They get away with it because they have adorable little faces that no one could possibly get angry at. While you are adorable, I somehow don't think you would have the same effect as a 5-year-old would."

Blaine huffed, scowling at Kurt playfully and bumping their foreheads together. "Fine. We don't have to do anything. We can just lie here forever and ever and ever."

"Should I be concerned that you're saying that like it's a form of torture?"

"Nope."

To be honest, Blaine would have elaborated more and said that that was his plan to begin with, but he was still stuck on the fact that Kurt had mentioned how cute kids were. He'd never really pictured Kurt as the type that would want kids. But with their talk of marriage and cars and houses…surely they could talk about kids, too…right? It was the logical next step.

"Do you want kids?"

The words were out before he'd really had a chance to think about it, but Kurt was just smiling like it was the most normal thing in the world to talk about. "Yes. Someday. Not a lot, but I think two would be nice. That way, they'd always have the other to play with. It gets kind of lonely being an only child."

"You have Finn."

"I got Finn when I was sixteen. Not exactly the same thing."

"Point taken."

Hmm. So Kurt wanted two kids. Kurt wanted to marry Blaine, and look for cars with Blaine, and look for a house with Blaine, and have two kids…with Blaine. Kids were never something he'd put much thought into, but with Kurt, it sounded nice.

"Do you want kids?" Kurt asked, turning Blaine's own question on him.

He paused, pondering for just a second longer, before deciding, "Yes. Yeah, I want kids. It wasn't really something I had put a lot of thought into before, but now that you've got the idea in my head, I like it."

Kurt's face lit up like Blaine had just told him he bought him the entire Vogue magazine company for Christmas. It was that look that he did, love, but amplified by a thousand.

"I like it, too."

Yet again, Blaine was out of words, so he continued the song.

And all along I believed
I would find you
Time has brought
Your heart to me
I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you
For a thousand more

Kurt closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Blaine's. "I love your voice."

"I love you."

"Yeah, that too."

They would have stayed like that forever if it were up to them. Just lying together, so close that they could hardly tell whose legs were whose, heartbeats synchronized, eyes closed, foreheads together, just existing together.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and just when Blaine thought he might drift back off to sleep, Laurel was knocking on the door.

"Wake up, little lovebirds," she sing-songed through the door.

Blaine groaned and pulled away just a little, enough so that he could peer at the door. "We're awake. And you can come in."

Laurel stepped into the room like she thought she'd come in to find them having a wild orgy with 15 people and goats.

"Relax, Laur," Blaine sighed. "We're fully clothed."

Usually, Blaine just slept in his boxers, but when he and Kurt slept together, he forced himself to actually wear pajama pants and an old t-shirt. He and Kurt just weren't to the point yet where boxers were an acceptable complete ensemble.

Kurt, it seemed, had fallen back to sleep, and was nestling his head into Blaine's chest. Blaine looked down at the movement and smiled. "Okay, well, I'm awake. This one fell back asleep, apparently."

"Yeah, yeah. You are aware that it's almost noon, right?"

"I have a clock directly next to my bed." Laurel raised an eyebrow and Blaine's tone of voice so he amended, "Yes, I know it's almost noon."

"Then, up you go. You and Kurt need to do something more today than just lie in bed fighting over who loves who more and whose eyes are dreamier and who has the best ass."

"There's no argument there; Blaine's ass wins every time," Kurt murmured, smirking.

Blaine nudged him. "You little sneak. You are awake."

"Barely. If Laurel has any hope of us getting out of this bed today, she'd better come make me get up herself, because we both know you're not going to do it."

"Mmm, that's because I like this just as much as you do."

"You two are sickening," Laurel said, starting towards the bed. "But your wish is my command, dear Kurtie." With that, she grabbed the covers and yanked them off of the pair on the bed.

Kurt squeaked, his arms wrapping around Blaine and his legs instinctively shooting up into the fetal position. That would have been adorable, had his knee not popped up right into Blaine's crotch.

That was the first time Blaine ever wanted to kill Kurt.

"Fuck," he moaned, turning over and curling into his own fetal position.

Blaine was groaning and writhing in agony while Laurel chuckled from the other side of the bed. "That sucks. Your fault for sharing your bed with him, though. I'm leaving now. My work here is done and I don't want to be here when Kurt goes to kiss it and make it better."

Her comment went ignored by both Kurt and Blaine; Blaine was too busy dying and Kurt was too busy fussing over his dying boyfriend.

"I am so sorry, Blaine. Tell me what I can do. What can I do? Oh my god, I can't believe I did that."

Blaine shook his head, but other than that decided it was best not to move. "It's okay, Kurt. It was an accident." He grabbed one of Kurt's hands that were cautiously placed on his shoulder and waist and squeezed, a reassurance. "Is it just me, or is Laurel getting more and more annoying these days?"

"She's basically your older sister; it's the law that she annoys you. Finn annoys me on a daily basis."

"She was never like that before."

Kurt paused, and Blaine could sense he was about to say something he wasn't sure about. "Maybe…Maybe it's because before, she was worried about…about how you might take it. She didn't want you to do anything…you know…that might set you off…but now that she sees your happy, and okay, she's decided you're just fine for her to fulfill her annoying older sister duties."

He could feel Kurt holding his breath behind him, like he wasn't sure how Blaine was going to react, and it kind of stung a little. He brushed it off, though, and simply said, "She's my cousin."

He opened one eye to see Kurt visibly relax. "Yes, but she's practically your sister. Are you better now?"

Blaine rolled over gently and offered Kurt a small smile. "Better than before? Yes. But I think Laurel was right. You should probably kiss it and make it better."

Kurt's eyes widened, but he recovered quickly and smacked Blaine on the arm before scooting back and standing up from the bed. "I would have gone for that a couple weeks ago, but you said we had to take it slow, so I don't think so."

Blaine would have come up with a witty retort if Kurt hadn't just basically said he would have given Blaine a blowjob a couple weeks ago. Now, his hormones were taking over and all he could think about was Kurt giving him a blowjob, which was not the thing to think about right now, especially when he was still so sensitive in the place most affected by thoughts such as these.

"How about you stop teasing me and go get dressed, huh?" Blaine asked, sitting up.

Kurt considered for a moment before nodding. "Fine. But since everyone seems so adamant about us going out today, and to make up for what I just did to you, I'm taking you out tonight."

"Oh, yeah? Where?"

"Scandals," Kurt said, smirking.

Blaine knew what Scandals was. Heck, he'd been there a couple times in high school with some of the guys from the Warblers. He was also very aware, however, of how alcohol affected him. And it wasn't pretty.

"Kurt…"

"Before you say no, don't."

He cocked an eyebrow. "That's your best argument?"

"It's all the argument I need."

"How do you figure that?"

Really, Blaine regretted asking right after he'd said it, because Kurt was doing that face that he could never say no to, and it just wasn't fair. Kurt knew exactly what that face did to him and he was downright playing dirty. And Blaine could think of better uses for Kurt's affinity for playing dirty.

Knowing he'd won, Kurt smirked again and opened the drawer of clothes they'd set aside in Blaine's dresser for him, pulling out an outfit he deemed appropriate for the day.

"I'm going to get dressed, and then you're going to get dressed, and then we're going to go to the mall and get super hot gay bar outfits, and then we're going to get dinner, and then we're going to Scandals. Okay?"

Blaine sighed, once again regretting the word the second it left his lips. "Okay."

This was not going to end well.

…

The music was loud, pumping, and Blaine could feel the bass reverberate through his body before they'd even opened the door. Kurt seemed nonplussed; he pulled the door open with a flourish and strutted his way down the hallway to the bored looking bouncer sitting on a stool.

Upon closer inspection, Blaine decided the bouncer wasn't bored, he just hated his life. A year ago, Blaine would have been able to relate. Now, despite the fact that he had been dragged to the last place on earth he wanted to be, he loved his life, because it was his soulmate who had dragged him here; Blaine would let Kurt drag him to hell and back.

Eeyore (Blaine's chosen nickname for the bouncer) glanced at their fake IDs, then sighed. "Have fun."

Kurt jumped up a little and squealed in excitement before latching onto Blaine's hand and tugging him towards the bar.

"Kurt, I think you're being a bit obvious. I don't think someone who's old enough to be here would bounce on their toes and squeal just because they were allowed in."

After ordering their drinks, Kurt through a pout at Blaine and lightly smacked his arm. "Be nice, you. I know you're secretly excited to be here, too."

Blaine rolled his eyes, slipping his arm around Kurt's waist as they stood at the bar and took the drinks set in front of them. Blaine sniffed his before taking an experimental sip.

"Oh, please. Like you've never had alcohol," Kurt scoffed, taking a nice big gulp of his own concoction. It had so many colors Blaine honestly had no idea what it was called or what was in it.

"I've had alcohol before," Blaine said tightly, without elaboration.

This earned a strange look from Kurt. "What?"

Blaine shook his head. "Nothing. It's fine." He forced himself to take a sip and quelled the urge to make a face.

Kurt smiled and downed the rest of his drink, ordering another. Blaine never would have pegged Kurt as the type to go get drunk at a gay bar, but then again, Kurt was always defying people's expectations of him. Really, Blaine should have learned to expect the unexpected by now.

There was a momentary lapse where one song ended and another began, and then Kurt was jumping again and looking at Blaine with this adorable excited grin.

"I love this song! Blaine, you have to dance with me!"

Blaine groaned, downing his drink in a spontaneous act of stupidity and followed Kurt to the dance floor.

As it turns out, dancing with his boyfriend is not the chore Blaine had imagined it to be. He was a lightweight, and Kurt had already gotten them more drinks putting them both at 3, and once he'd gotten loose enough he was open to drinking more, so Blaine ended up downing about 5 of those weird drinks Kurt had ordered for him. He also had no idea what was even in his drinks, he trusted Kurt enough to let him order him whatever, so he had no clue how strong they were. In conclusion, Blaine was feeling pretty drunk.

All he knew was that the music was coursing through his veins and his boyfriend was dancing on him, Kurt's back to Blaine's front; his hands were on Kurt's hips, pulling them close together and keeping them moving together. Blaine leaned forward and started kissing Kurt's neck, putting his lips on any and all skin that he could find. Kurt tilted his head to stretch his neck out for Blaine and lifted his arms to thread his fingers through Blaine's curls.

It was all too much. If Blaine had it his way, he would have started ripping the clothes off of Kurt and himself right then and there; but they were new clothes, and he knew Kurt put a lot of time and effort into picking out these outfits, and he couldn't ruin all of his boyfriend's hard work. Oh, and they were in public. There was that too.

Blaine pulled away, panting, and Kurt turned to look at him questioningly.

"I need…I need a second, okay? I'm just gonna go sit at the bar for a few minutes." He had to practically shout to be heard over the music, but Kurt nodded.

"I'll come with you. We could both use a little time to…cool down, for a second."

Blaine was reveling in the fact that he was not alone in how completely turned on he was right now when he noticed Kurt stop short as soon as he'd started walking to the bar.

"What? What is it?"

Kurt just pointed, and Blaine followed his finger to a burly looking guy their age sitting at the bar. Then, Kurt uttered the one word that made Blaine want to puke, and not because of the alcohol.

"Karofsky."

The name sent shivers down his spine, and before he even really knew what he was doing, he was standing right in front of the bully himself, Kurt right behind him, warning. "Blaine, don't."

Karofsky looked thrown off, but caught himself quickly enough and threw a sneer his way. "Who's this, Hummel? Your butt buddy for the night?"

"How can you possibly make fun of me for being gay while you're in a gay bar, David?" Kurt asked, trying to force nonchalance. It wasn't working.

Karofsky's face immediately fell and suddenly he looked…remorseful. "Sorry. Old habits die hard, ya know?"

Blaine was getting whiplash from this guy's actions and he'd only known him for a minute.

"Whatever. In answer to your question, no, this is not my 'butt buddy for the night.' This is Blaine, my boyfriend."

Karofsky was saying something, but Blaine didn't hear it. He couldn't hear anything. Suddenly, the music stopped, the chattering stopped, everything stopped. All he could hear, all he could see, was his mind's image of this guy forcing himself on Kurt. Shoving Kurt against the wall, scaring him, kissing him, and it was all so wrong. How could Kurt just stand here and talk to this guy like nothing had ever happened?

Apparently, Blaine had voiced that last question out loud, as Kurt turned to him, awestruck. "Blaine."

"No," he said, anger boiling in side of him, turning back on all of the noise around them and amplifying it. This morning, everything had been legato and piano, and now it was staccato and forte, growing to fortissimo and fortississimo with every passing second. "Really, Kurt. This guy assaulted you!"

Karofsky looked too shocked to say anything, but tried anyway, failing miserably. "What? No! I—Kurt, you—I didn't! I mean—that was years ago! I'm not—"

"Not what?" Blaine asked, rounding on the person causing all of the problems. "You're not a bully? You didn't throw slushies in his face every day? Didn't toss him in the dumpsters like garbage? Didn't throw him against the lockers like his body was nothing? Like he was nothing?"

It was the alcohol talking, and Blaine knew that, but he couldn't stop. This is why he didn't drink. He knew better. When he drank, the alcohol washed him away to that place he never wanted to go to but always seemed to find himself in when he was under the influence.

"Blaine—" Kurt tried to stop him, but he was just so furious at this guy, there was no stopping him.

So he continued like Kurt had never interrupted him. "You didn't pin him up against the lockers in the locker room when no one was looking and force yourself on him?"

All of the blood drained from Karofsky's face. "It wasn't like that!"

And Karofsky denying it, when you could read it all over his face that it was exactly like that, just sent Blaine over the edge. Before he even knew what he was doing, Blaine hauled his arm back and punched Karofsky in the face.

Karofsky fell off of the stool and onto the ground, and it was too easy; Blaine just got right on top of him and continued hitting him. Every punch was like repayment for every mean thing he'd ever done to Kurt. All the stinging eyes from slushies, all the bruises from locker shoves, all the cuts and bruises from dumpster tosses, it was all being thrown back in this fucking poor excuse for a man's face with every hit, and it felt good.

"Blaine? What the hell?"

Except, that wasn't Kurt's voice. It was the voice of someone Blaine never thought he'd see again. The sound made him stop cold, even before he was being pulled off and thrust aside to stand next to Kurt, who looked…terrified.

Blaine took a step towards Kurt to comfort him, but Kurt took a step back and flinched like Blaine was going to hit him too.

That hurt.

Before he had a chance to say something, the bartender was telling them all to get out before he called the cops. They headed out to the parking lot, Blaine's old friend helping Karofsky. Once they were outside, though, things picked up right where they left off.

"What the fuck, man? I thought you were past this," the newcomer said, sitting Karofsky down on a bench.

Blaine scowled. "Yeah, me too. I guess seeing the guy who used to beat up my boyfriend, and sexually assaulted him, just kinda got to me. My bad."

"Well, right now your boyfriend seems just as scared of you as he probably used to be of my boyfriend."

For the first time since punches had been thrown, Kurt spoke. "Wait, Karofsky and Trevor?"

The name had both Blaine and the new guy dropping everything, staring at Kurt. Blaine was too shocked to say anything, but his friend wasn't.

"I'm sorry? Blaine, your boyfriend thinks I'm Trevor? No, wait, further back, your boyfriend knows who Trevor is? He must be really special if you told him about all that shit. Scratch that, he must be really special if he didn't run the hell away when you told him about all that shit. I'm surprised he's not already gone after watching you wail on Dave."

"If you're not Trevor, then who the fuck are you?" Kurt asked, ignoring all the stupid stuff the guy was saying.

He held his hand out to Kurt, who looked at it with distaste and took a step back. The guy shrugged.

Blaine sighed. "Kurt, this is Michael."

Kurt frowned like he was trying to remember, then his face smoothed out in realization. Once he made the connection, though, he got just as angry as Blaine. "Oh, so I can't stand there and talk to Karofsky, but you can talk to Michael? Or did you forget what he did to you?"

Before Blaine could say anything, Michael cut in. "Excuse me? What I did? Clearly Blaine didn't give you the whole story."

"Oh, he did," Kurt said, stepping forward slowly to be directly in front of Michael. "He told me everything. Including the part where you two were friends and you stole his boyfriend."

Blaine flinched, all anger drained from him. Now he was just exhausted, and watching Kurt with Michael just felt…wrong. He never wanted these two parts of his life to mix. Kurt was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and seeing him interact with a part of the worst thing that had ever happened to him made his stomache churn. Or maybe that was the alcohol finally coming back to bite him in the ass.

"Yeah? He tell you the part where he beat up his boyfriend again and punched me in the face when he found out about it? Look, Kurt, you seem like a nice kid, so I'm gonna give you some advice: Run. Run fast. Get away from that fucking lunatic before it's too late and he beats the shit out of you too."

Kurt got even closer to Michael until their noses were practically touching. "You listen to me, and you listen very closely, got it? Blaine is not a bad person. In fact, I would even say he's a better person than you. That much is evident from the fact that you're holding something over Blaine's head that happened 3 years ago. I'm not going anywhere. Because, you see that beautiful, broken boy behind me? Yeah, you're part of the reason he's broken. Unlike you, however, I see him for what he really is; and that is the most amazing, loving, compassionate person I have ever met. He's just had to deal with a lot of shitty people in his life, like his parents, and Trevor, and you. Don't worry, though, he has me now. I love him, and he loves me, and he would never lay a hand on me."

Michael laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. "Yeah, that's what you think now. Just you wait. One of these days, you'll forget to buy some milk on the way home from work, and he'll flip his shit and slap you across the face."

Blaine was overwhelmed with just how right Michael was, and that paired with his alcohol consumption being more than his tolerance, had him running over to the bushes and throwing up.

A warm hand fell on his back and another one brushed his curls out of his eyes. He felt a gentle kiss being pressed to his temple and recoiled.

"Don't touch me. He's right."

Kurt ignored him and rubbed his back. "No he's not. He doesn't know anything. He hasn't seen you in 3 years. He doesn't know who you are anymore."

Blaine coughed, spitting out the last remnants of puke and wiping his mouth. "Neither do I."

Kurt opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by Michael calling out, "Nice seeing you, Anderson! Remember what I said, Kurt!"

"You sure know how to pick 'em, Hummel!" Karofsky added, then winced in pain.

Kurt scowled. "Right back at you, Karofsky!" He turned back to Blaine and sighed. "Such a shame. For a second, I thought Dave might have changed just the tiniest bit."

"Yeah, well, he's not exactly keeping the right company to rehabilitate him."

Blaine collapsed fell back onto the ground from his crouching position, pulling his knees up to his chest. He felt awful, and not just from getting sick from the alcohol.

"Come on," Kurt said, standing up and extending a hand. "I'll take us back to your place."

"You shouldn't be driving. You were drinking tonight."

"Yeah, and I sobered up the second you started punching Karofsky. You, however, seem to still be drunk since you're being so irrational right now, so I'm driving. Now let's go."

Blaine looked up at him and sighed, digging his nails into his arms. "Go without me. You shouldn't be around me right now. It's not safe."

Kurt's face softened at that, and he knelt down beside Blaine to look into his eyes. "Like hell it's not. I meant what I said to Michael. You wouldn't lay a hand on me and we both know it." Kurt reached a hand out to Blaine's face, but Blaine pushed him away and stood up, taking a few steps away.

"Don't touch me," he repeated, voice low and dangerous.

He was getting angry again, he knew that. It was irrational. Kurt was only trying to help. Kurt was being the best boyfriend in the world right now, and all he was doing was pushing him away and being a dick. He knew all of this. But that was the problem. Kurt was beautiful and perfect and understanding and kind and empathetic and he couldn't stand the thought of hitting him. He couldn't. And Michael was right; if they stayed together like they kept talking about, Blaine would end up getting mad over nothing and flipping out. It was just the way he was.

"Fine, I won't touch you. But let's go. We can't stay out in this parking lot all night, and it's almost 1 o'clock in the morning."

"Go to your house," Blaine finally said. "If we go back to Laurel this late stinking of alcohol she's gonna have a fit."

Kurt nodded, so Blaine went to the car and got into the passenger seat. Kurt slid in a moment later and turned the car on, pulling out of the parking lot silently. He reached over and turned on the radio, flipping until he found a song he liked. Blaine changed it.

"I liked that song," Kurt said softly, sounding dejected.

"Well, I didn't," Blaine snapped.

Kurt gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white. Then, he turned the radio back to what he had it on. "Too bad. I like this song and you're going to listen to it because you're my boyfriend and you'll do things you don't always like for me because you love me."

Instead of replying with words, Blaine changed the station again.

Kurt shot a look at Blaine when they came to a red light. "If this is your idea of testing me, it's not going to work. I'm not Trevor. I'm not going to fight you over a radio station. You're more important to me than a stupid song. And you can huff and puff and throw your little fit over there, that's fine, but you're not going to take it out on me, okay? I get that you're upset, but it's not me you're upset with, and I would appreciate it if you weren't so rude to me when I just defended you to the person you're really upset with."

Fuck. Kurt was right. Why was Kurt always right about everything? It was starting to get ridiculous. It just wasn't fair. Eventually, Blaine would have to be right about something, wouldn't he? It was just the way it worked. Life was balanced. And what if the thing Blaine was right about was that eventually, inevitably, he would hurt Kurt? Suddenly, Kurt being right all the time didn't seem all that bad.

After what was probably only about 20 minutes, but to Blaine felt like a thousand, they arrived back at Kurt's house. Without saying a word to each other, they got out of the car and went to the house. True to his word, Kurt didn't touch him once.

Unsurprisingly, Burt was on the couch waiting up for Kurt. His eyebrows scrunched in confusion when he saw Blaine.

"Kurt, I know we said you control your own life now, but would it have killed you to tell me you weren't going to be home until almost 2am?"

"Sorry, Dad. Blaine and I ran into some old…friends."

Burt pushed off the couch and crossed the room to scrutinize them. "Old friends?"

"Yep."

"And where were you?"

"What was that you said about me controlling my own life? I thought I didn't have to run all of my plans by you anymore."

"When you come in my house with your boyfriend looking like someone just ran him over and you both reeking of alcohol at 2 in the morning that goes out the window."

"Can't this wait until the morning? You see how Blaine is; you just said he looks like someone ran him over. How about we all go to sleep and we'll talk about it in the morning?"

"I punched Karofsky in the face," Blaine interrupted. He was tired of hearing Kurt lie to his dad and treat him like crap. At least he had a dad. "Several times."

Burt narrowed his eyes at Kurt. "Old friends, huh? I seem to remember your relationship with Karofsky a little differently from that, kid."

Kurt sighed. "Look, it's been a long night. I'm exhausted, Blaine's exhausted—"

"I'm fine," Blaine snapped.

Kurt copied his father's facial expression, aiming it at Blaine. "Blaine's exhausted," he repeated, "and I'd like to just go to sleep. I promise I will tell you all about it tomorrow morning. Okay?"

"I saw an old friend. We were friends in high school before he stole my boyfriend."

"Blaine," Kurt warned, still not touching him but giving him a look that clearly said shut up.

Blaine didn't care, though. He was on a roll. He was still drunk, and the alcohol paired with the adrenaline, his state of mind at the time thought it would be a good idea to just start revealing all of his biggest secrets to his boyfriend's dad.

"I caught them making out. I punched him in the face, too. After I beat up my boyfriend. I used to do that a lot, you know? I used to just wail on him. One time it was because I got mad at him for changing the radio station in his car."

"I think that's enough, Blaine," Kurt said through gritted teeth.

"One time I fractured his wrist. Cool, huh? I didn't think I would have been strong enough, you know, because he was bigger than me. But Karofsky was bigger than me too and I got him good. That's when that old friend of mine showed up. He was fun, wasn't he, Kurt?"

Kurt was still resisting the urge to touch him, but Burt, who had no idea that he wasn't supposed to touch Blaine, said, "I think you're right, Kurt. Take him upstairs and go to bed. We'll talk in the morning." Then he reached a hand out and touched Blaine on the shoulder.

Immediately, Blaine jumped back and yelled, "Don't touch me!"

His sudden outburst woke Finn up, who appeared at the top of the stairs, rubbing his eyes. "Dude, what the hell? I'm trying to sleep."

"No, really? I thought you were baking a fucking cake in your bedroom at 2 in the fucking morning," Blaine spat.

Finn stopped his descent down the stairs. "Whoa. Kurt, your boyfriend is being a douche."

"Maybe you're just being an idiot. That wouldn't really be different from every other day for you, though, would it?"

Kurt sighed. "I'm sorry, Finn. He's drunk. He doesn't know what he's saying."

That was it. That was the one thing that sent Blaine over the edge.

"I know exactly what I'm saying! Stop making excuses for me! You keep trying to defend that perfect image of me you've conjured up in your head, making up bullshit excuses for every time I act the way the Blaine in your head never would, but open your eyes, Kurt! I'm not that guy! I tried telling you before and you just don't listen! You didn't listen to Michael and you're not listening to me! Do you have any idea how frustrating that is?"

"Surely not as frustrating as dealing with a belligerent drunk. Now let's get you upstairs so I can put you to bed and I won't have to deal with you until you wake up in the morning and apologize profusely for your wildly inappropriate behavior." Kurt pointed up the stairs, still not touching Blaine.

"I'm not a child; you don't need to put me to bed. And I'm not apologizing for anything. You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to say 'I'm sorry' for this."

"And you're out of your mind if you think I'm going to let you get away with not apologizing to me after the way you're treating me tonight. Go up the fucking stairs, Blaine Anderson. We're going to bed. Now."

Kurt stuck his hand on his hip and quirked an eyebrow, daring Blaine to defy him.

Blaine, in all honesty, was actually really tired. And after all of this fighting, he was getting even more tired by the second. All he wanted to do was sleep. He just didn't want to admit that and look like he was doing what Kurt told him to do. He was his own person. He didn't have to listen to Kurt. Then again, Kurt was kind of scary like this. Last time Blaine had lashed out at him, Kurt kind of curled into himself and became really submissive and apologetic. This time, Kurt was having none of it. He was being firm without once laying a hand on Blaine.

And for that reason, and that reason alone, Blaine did as he was told and went upstairs. He passed Finn without a word, walking around him instead of running into him, and collapsed onto Kurt's bed. He thought he heard Kurt and Burt's voices downstairs, and the sound of Finn returning to his room, but he was really just too wiped out to care.

Kurt came in a few minutes later. They didn't say anything to each other. Kurt changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed beside Blaine, careful to not let their bodies touch.

After a couple minutes, Blaine was out like a light.

…

The second Blaine woke up, he wished he hadn't. His head felt like a thousand men were standing around and just hammering away at his skull. He groaned and rolled over, pulling the pillow on top of his head. The pillow that wasn't his. In the bed that wasn't his.

"Where am I?" he moaned.

"My house." He knew that voice. He lifted the pillow the tiniest bit to peer up at his boyfriend who was holding out pills and a bottle of water. "Here."

Blaine threw the pillow back over his head, ignoring the offering. "I don't even feel well enough to take those."

He heard Kurt sigh and felt the bed sag with a weight beside him. "Just take them, Blaine. You'll need them to deal with my dad."

He groaned again and curled up into the fetal position, wrapping his arms around himself. Kurt took that opportunity to gingerly lift the pillow off his head.

Blaine blinked up at him. "Why do I need to deal with your dad?" And just like that, he remembered. It all came back to him, the whole night. The bar, the drinks, the dancing, Karofsky, Michael, Burt, Finn. It all came swimming back to him like one big fucking nightmare. "Fuck, don't answer that." He also remembered the way he treated Kurt and cringed. "Why are you being so nice to me? I was a dick last night."

Kurt sighed again, brushing the curls away from Blaine's forehead like he had when Blaine was throwing up. "Because I was the one that got you drunk. And because you're going to apologize to me profusely and spend the rest of our lives making it up to me."

"I don't remember that last part being included in the deal."

"I threw it in. I think I have that power, don't you?"

Blaine nodded, then cringed because okay moving your head when you have a pounding headache is not the best idea, and said, "Yeah."

Kurt patted Blaine's hip and stood up. "Good. Take the Advil. Drink the water. My dad's been waiting for hours for you to wake up. Last night his plan was to come shout in your ear at 6am as a wake-up call, but I talked him out of that. You're welcome."

"Thank you," Blaine said, and he'd never meant it more than he did just then.

He sat up slowly, grabbed the pills off of the bedside table and chased them down with the water bottle. He downed the whole thing at once and screwed the cap back on, throwing it at the trash can across the room. It missed.

"You better pick that up," Kurt commanded. "I won't have you littering my floor on top of everything else. That is where I draw the line."

Blaine almost cracked a smile. Almost.

He got up from the bed and winced when he realized that he was still in his clothes from last night and they were disgusting.

Kurt caught his facial expression. "Yeah. One of the things you're going to do to make last night up to me will be washing my sheets. They're disgusting now because of you. But before all that, why don't you get some of your clothes out of your drawer and take a shower? I'll tell my dad you're up and make you some toast."

He couldn't take it. He just couldn't.

He reached out to grab Kurt's wrist as he started to make his way out of the room. "Kurt, wait."

Kurt turned around and looked at him. "What?"

"You don't have to do all of this. After everything I did last night, you should have let your dad come shout at me at 6 this morning. You should have given me some kind of poison instead of Advil. You should be kicking me out right now."

"But I'm not. So take a shower and meet me downstairs, okay?"

Blaine sighed but nodded. "Okay."

Kurt squeezed his hand before letting go and heading downstairs.

To say Blaine was mortified would be the understatement of the year. The whole time he was getting his clothes and taking a shower and getting dressed, he was reliving everything he did and said last night, making him physically ill. He threw up in the shower, watching it swirl down the drain with the rest of the filth from his body. He felt disgusting. How could he treat another human being like that? How could he treat Kurt like that? And how the fuck could Kurt just be so goddamn nice to him in spite of it? Blaine knew without a doubt that Kurt's father would not be so understanding. This talk with Mr. Hummel would turn out exactly the same way his last conversation with his own father did, Blaine was certain of that. He'd end up kicked in the stomache and thrown out of the house. And why shouldn't he be?

After a good hour, Blaine finally forced himself to man up and face the music. He headed downstairs, head still killing him, and the second he appeared in the kitchen doorway everyone stopped. All the talking, all the movement, it just died. Blaine's presence sucked the life out of the room.

Burt gestured to Blaine's customary chair at the table. "Have a seat, Blaine; Kurt made toast and Carole's making eggs, though I have a feeling your stomache might not like those too much."

Well. That was unexpected.

Burt was sitting in his chair, eating what looked like a bowl of shit but was probably oatmeal; Finn was sitting in his chair, wolfing down a giant bowl of Lucky Charms and most likely waiting on a nice heaping of eggs, too; Carole was, of course, at the stove making eggs; Kurt was standing in front of the refrigerator, pulling out the tub of what he deemed to be "healthy butter."

"How are you feeling this morning, hon?" Carole asked.

It took Blaine a moment to realize that she was directing the question at him.

"Um…much better…thank you."

He didn't want to tell her about his headache. He deserved to suffer in silence.

Blaine looked over and realized that Finn was staring at him like he thought he was going to jump across the table and strangle him, and he sighed.

"I'm sorry about what I said to you last night, Finn. I was out of line."

Finn turned around to look at Kurt, who gave him a look that said I told you so, then turned back to Blaine. "It's cool, dude. Just don't get drunk anymore. You were kind of mean."

"You don't have to worry about that. I'm never touching alcohol again."

Burt snorted from behind his newspaper, but said nothing.

Kurt came over and set a plate of buttered toast and another bottle of water down in front of Blaine, kissing him on top of his head. "There. Eat up. You'll feel better." Then, Kurt settled into his own seat beside Blaine and nursed a mug of coffee.

It felt…surreal. Everyone was treating him like nothing had happened. He felt like he'd just walked into an episode of The Brady Bunch.

He took a bite of toast and a swig of water, then set it down and eyed the room suspiciously. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but why are you all being so nice to me right now?"

Kurt sighed. "Blaine, I already told you—"

"Not you," Blaine cut in softly. "You love me. I don't understand why right now, but apparently last night hasn't changed that. The rest of you don't have that excuse. You're Kurt's family, not mine. You should all be attacking me for the way I treated him last night, the way I treated you, Mr. Hummel, and you, Finn."

"I was asleep, so I can still like you, right?" Carole asked, offering a small smile.

Blaine didn't return it. "I'm not making a joke," he said softly, looking down at his plate.

Burt reached out a hand and clapped Blaine on the shoulder, unafraid of touching him now. "Let's just get through breakfast first, okay?"

Blaine nodded. "Okay."

So they did. Finn did, in fact, eat a good heaping of eggs. Carole had a more reasonable amount, as did Burt. When Burt tried to sneak some salt, Kurt took it and gave it to Blaine to hold throughout breakfast so Burt wouldn't use it. As soon as Finn finished, he rinsed out his dishes, put them in the dishwasher, and headed out to hang out with Rachel.

With Finn out of the house and everyone basically done eating, there was no more putting it off; it was time for them to talk about last night.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said before anyone else could say anything. "I apologized to Finn but not to anyone else, and I just want you to know I'm sorry. I'm sorry to you, Mrs. Hummel, even though you were asleep. And to you, Mr. Hummel, because I was so far out of line with everything I was saying. I…I shouldn't have said any of that. And Kurt, God, I am so freaking sorry. I treated you worse than Karofsky ever did—"

"Don't say that," Kurt murmured, touching his arm.

"But it's true. I did. And I'm sorry. There's no way I'll ever be able to make it up to you guys. I…I'm honestly shocked you didn't put poison in my food."

Burt looked affronted. "You were rude, Blaine, but we're not going to cause you bodily harm. That's a little extreme, don't you think?"

Blaine thought back to when his own father had caused him bodily harm and been happy about it. "No," he said, swinging his water bottle around the table top in a circular motion.

Carole stood up. "I'm just going to get started on cleaning the dishes. You boys talk."

Burt caught her wrist. "Stop. You clean the kitchen all the time. Let me do it. You go sit and watch your shows, I'll clean up after we talk, alright?"

"Okay." Carole smiled and leaned down to kiss him before heading into the living room.

With Carole gone, Burt turned back to Blaine. "Alright, Blaine. Now you said a lot of stuff last night I'm sure you didn't want me to hear." Blaine cringed, knowing exactly what he said. "But now I know and you're not getting out of it. So just start at the beginning."

"Dad, it took Blaine hours to give me the entire story."

"I don't need all the little details. Just tell me what happened. Who's that old friend you ran into last night?"

"Michael," Blaine started. The absolute last thing he wanted was to tell the Trevor Incident to Kurt's dad. But he'd already basically told him last night, and there was no going back now. "He was a friend of mine in high school, my freshman year. There was a guy named Trevor I was dating at the time, and things were good until…well, until they weren't. Long story short, we started fighting a lot, but the fights would turn physical."

"This happened a lot, the physical violence between the two of you?" Mr. Hummel asked.

"Yes, sir…At least once a week. Eventually, I guess Trevor just got tired of it and looked somewhere else. I caught him and Michael together and just…flipped. I hit Trevor until he pushed me off and then I punched Michael in the face. I never saw either of them after that, until last night, when Michael showed up at…"

Blaine trailed off and looked to Kurt for confirmation that it was okay to tell his dad where they were last night.

Kurt took over from there. "Scandals. We went to Scandals last night, the gay bar. Karofsky was there, and apparently Blaine is an angry drunk, because he just lashed out at him. Michael came and that stopped Blaine pretty quickly. We had to take it outside, and Michael got in our faces, and then they left. So I brought Blaine here. And…well, you were there. You know what happened."

Burt was staring hard at them, looking simultaneously like he wanted to punch someone in the face and wanted to give Blaine a hug, which Blaine found to be odd.

"Blaine, last night you said Kurt didn't listen and he was making excuses for you. What'd you mean by that?"

Blaine suddenly felt really tired again, and his headache amplified, and all he wanted to do was roll over and die. Kurt placed a comforting hand on his knee.

"Dad, let's not get into that."

"No, Kurt, it's fine," Blaine sighed. "Your dad deserves to know. After everything I did last night…Look, sir, I'm not a very good person, as you saw last night. That's why my parents kicked me out, that's why Trevor cheated on me; I've tried on several occasions to warn Kurt, but he's pretty insistent that he's going to be the one to show me I'm not a bad person."

"And you don't believe him," Burt stated.

It wasn't a question, but Blaine answered anyway. "No, I don't."

Burt exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, kid, I'm gonna tell you something I think you've already figured out by now. Kurt's always right. I hate it, and I'm sure you do too, but it's true. So, if he says you're not a bad person, you're not a bad person."

Blaine was starting to get really frustrated with everyone telling him that he wasn't a bad person. Why couldn't they see him the way he saw himself? If his behavior last night wasn't enough to convince them enough, what would he have to do to show them that?

"Stop," Kurt reprimanded. Blaine looked up at Kurt. "I know what you're thinking. Stop it. Listen to my dad."

"I can see it in your eyes, Blaine." Burt continued. "I can see all that hurt. You may not know this, but kid, your emotions read straight across in your eyes. I can feel the way you're just waiting for me to treat you like your own parents did, because you think that's just how parents treat their kids." Ouch. Why was Kurt's dad so good at reading him? It wasn't fair. "I'm not gonna do that to you. You made a mistake last night, you made mistakes in your past. We all do that. You know how I know you've changed?"

Blaine willed his gaze to land on Burt. "How?"

"Even in the state you were in last night, you didn't once hit my son. When I reached out to touch you, instead of hitting me, you stepped back. When you passed Finn on the stairs, you pushed yourself against the wall instead of shoving his shoulder on your way up. You're not that person you were anymore, Blaine."

"I still hit Karofsky."

"Kid had it comin' to him for a long time. You don't think I went after him too? I was at the school with Kurt and that kid made fun of him right in front of me; I charged after him and pinned him up against a wall."

Blaine's eyes widened at that. He had not expected that at all. This family was the least predictable family he'd ever met in his life.

"We're guys, Blaine. It's what guys do. We get physical. Did you get out of hand when you were younger? Sure. But you're not like that now. You honestly think if I thought for even a second that you were a danger to my son I'd let you anywhere near him?"

Blaine looked down to where Kurt had laced their fingers together on his knee. He turned back to Mr. Hummel. "No, sir."

"Not a chance in hell. I'd die protecting my kid. If I thought he needed to be protected from you, you wouldn't be sitting there right now. You need to get used to people caring about you, Blaine. Not everyone is going to treat you like your parents did, or like Trevor did, or Michael, or any of those other people. When I told you you had a place here, I meant it. You were considered a part of this family the second you set foot in our house, and family sticks by each other. You said that Kurt loves you, and that's why he's allowed to be nice to you. We love you too, Blaine."

Blaine couldn't help it. He started crying. The second he heard Burt's chair screech as he stood up, he was out of his own chair, throwing himself into his boyfriend's dad's arms.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered through his tears.

Burt held him tightly. "I know."

They pulled apart and Burt took a step back. "I'm going to clean the kitchen. You two can go back upstairs."

Kurt rose from his own chair and crossed over to give his dad a hug. "Thank you, Dad," Blaine heard him whisper.

"Love you, kid," Burt replied.

Kurt stepped away and took Blaine's hand, leading them upstairs. Once in his room, Kurt shut the door behind him, and led Blaine to the bed. They cuddled on a wordless agreement, Blaine laying his head on Kurt's chest and Kurt holding him close.

"Don't think I forgot about the laundry," Kurt whispered, smoothing Blaine's hair down. "When we're done cuddling you're washing my bed linens."

In spite of everything, Blaine laughed. It was one laugh, a huff of air, really, but it was something. "Okay. I promise."

As he drifted back to sleep, he heard Kurt singing softly.

I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you
For a thousand more