“Kurt!”

Kurt shifted slightly, refusing to open his eyes. He was cocooned in his comforter and his pillow was wonderfully soft against his softly throbbing head. He could vaguely hear footsteps on the stairs, but tried to ignore them. He was very content to lie here and go back to sleep. He felt pleasantly warm and there was a scent that drifted around him that he couldn’t quite place, but it was extremely comforting.

“Kurt!” He heard his name again, this time closer to him. He groaned slightly. He was going to have to open his eyes, wasn’t he?

And what was that sound near him? It sounded like…breathing.

There was a knock on the door. Kurt opened his dry mouth, but no sound came out. The insistent knocking made him feel like someone was pounding on his head.

The door creaked open. “Kurt, can you help me? I can’t-“

Burt’s voice cut off suddenly. Kurt reluctantly opened his eyes.

The shades were drawn, so the room wasn’t very bright. Burt stood in the doorway, wearing an apron, staring at the bed. He looked shocked. Kurt raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, Dad?” he asked groggily. He turned to the side to check the time on his alarm clock.

And that’s when he saw Blaine’s sleeping form in bed next to him, and a lot of things clicked into place.

He looked back at his dad, suddenly much more awake. He sat up quickly, and then flinched in pain at the headrush that followed.

“Kurt…” Burt said slowly, his brows drawn together. “Could you come out here?”

“Yeah, sure,” Kurt replied. He slipped out of his blankets and stood, trying to hide his hangover. Sure, he could legally drink now, but old habits die hard.

Kurt followed his father into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Burt cleared his throat and looked Kurt in the eye.

“Now, kiddo, I know that you’re an adult, and you can do what you want. But if you’re going to have…guests over, in your bed-“

“Oh, God,” Kurt said reaching up to cover his face. “Dad, stop. Please stop now. You’ve got this all wrong.”

Kurt could feel his face reddening with mortification. His dad thought that he’d slept with Blaine. Well, okay, technically he had indeed slept next to Blaine. But his dad thought they’d had sex in Kurt’s bed…

Sure, Kurt had awkwardly discussed sex with his dad before, and he knew that he should be able to talk about it without freaking out, but before it had always been hypothetical. Kurt could deal with discussing safe sex with his dad when it was in just in case scenarios. This was completely different.

Kurt removed his hands from his face and began explaining. “Blaine and I went to a bar last night, you knew that. Then we both drank too much to drive, and he forgot his wallet so he couldn’t pay the cab to take him to his dorm, so I just said he could crash here.”

Burt looked slightly relieved. “Oh, okay.” He said. “One of you could have taken the couch, though.”

Kurt frustratedly thought about saying that he’d thought of that, but the memory of Blaine, intoxicated and beautiful and topless, asking Kurt to stay, kept Kurt from bringing it up. “I guess we just weren’t…really thinking.”

Burt laughed. “I don’t doubt it.” He was smiling now, much more at ease. “It’s fine that he stayed. Just, you know, advanced notice is usually nice.”

Kurt nodded. “Of course, Dad. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Anyway, can you come downstairs once you’re ready? I’m trying to cook breakfast and I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Kurt laughed softly, then ground his teeth at the pain in his head. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

Kurt went back into his room and shut the door. He leaned against it and closed his eyes. When he opened them he saw that Blaine was still laying in the bed, asleep. Of course, he still wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the comforter covered him up to the waist, making him look as though he wasn’t wearing anything. No wonder Burt jumped to conclusions. Kurt looked at Blaine for a moment longer, a faint blush creeping over his face.

Kurt went into the bathroom to take a shower before getting dressed. Blaine was still asleep when he came out, so he decided to let him sleep(the poor boy’s hangover was going to be twice as bad as Kurt’s) and headed downstairs.

He helped his dad make quiche, which was Carole’s favorite. Kurt explained that Blaine was still sleeping and Kurt didn’t want to wake him. Kurt and his parents had breakfast together, talking and laughing and eating. He nearly forgot about the slumbering boy upstairs as his headache faded away.

Blaine was awoken by the ringing of his phone. He groaned, refusing to open his eyes. He didn’t want to move.

Finally the phone stopped, and Blaine relaxed into the sheets. He only had a moment of peace, though, before it began ringing again.

“Goddamnit,” he muttered, opening his eyes.

He quickly realized that he was not in his dorm room. This considerably alarmed him for a moment until he saw the Wicked poster on the wall next to him and remembered that he was in Kurt’s room.

He only spent a second trying to grasp at the slippery memories of the previous night before he realized he needed to answer his phone.

He found it in the pocket of his jeans, which were on the floor near the bathroom door. Standing up had brought a new wave of hungover pain, and Blaine silently cursed himself as he hastily answered the phone.

“Um, hello?”

“Blaine?”

“Yeah, Maia, it’s me.”

She let out a heavy breath. “I was worried about you.”

“Worried?” Blaine asked, trying to think of why he would worry her.

“Yeah. You texted me last night and said you’d call but you never did.”

Blaine tried to remember doing such a thing. All this brainpower was not helping his headache. He could vaguely recall their phone call, which ended badly, and…right, he must have texted her after that.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I completely forgot.”

“So can we hang out today?” She asked hopefully.

Blaine rubbed his face with his free hand. “Yeah, of course. It’s, um, it’s Thursday, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” Maia sounded suspicious. “Blaine, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Blaine answered, although it wasn’t really true. “I’m fine. So, tonight, then?”

“Uh-huh…” she seemed unconvinced. “You sound awful, sweetie. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I just have a headache.”

“Are you…Blaine, are you hungover?”

Blaine sighed. “Uh, yeah. A little bit.”

“Blaine.”

Blaine laughed slightly, because it really was kind of amusing. “Maia, I was at a bar last night and you knew that.”

“Yeah, but still…you’re going to class, right?”

“Of course.” Blaine wouldn’t dream of missing class. Actually, he thought. Shit, what time is it?

“Well, okay…” Maia said. She didn’t seem happy. “I’ll text you later.”

“Okay. Bye, Maia.”

“Bye.”

Blaine set his phone on the ground and ran a hand through his hair, which was in horrible disarray from sleeping in it without washing the product out. He heard the door open and turned around. Kurt was peeking in the room, looking at him. He smiled.

“Hey,” Kurt said. “You’re awake.”

“Barely,” Blaine replied.

Kurt laughed, opening the door fully. He was holding a glass full of water and had a bottle of ibuprofen in the other hand. He held them up. “I brought these for you. Figured you could use them.”

“Yeah,” Blaine said, getting to his feet. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Kurt handed them over. “There’s food downstairs. My parents just left.”

Blaine swallowed two pills, and then smiled at Kurt. “Great.”

Blaine followed Kurt out of the room and downstairs, leaving his phone behind.