Kurt blinked open his eyes, wondering why the hell it was so damn bright. He never, ever opened his windows in the morning.

As he tried to shuffle his way out of bed but he felt a constricting arm wrapped around his waist. Wait. Kurt peered around the room, his eyes still a bit fuzzy. Beige. His walls weren't beige, they were burgundy. And—and he didn't remember ever hanging up that painting, and those curtains—never in a million years would he ever pick out such mismatched curtains. Where was he?

Kurt bolted up right, Blaine's arm slipping from its place, and flopping back on the bed. Oh shit.

Kurt looked frantically around the room, slightly panicked. What the hell did you do last night Kurt Hummel?

Kurt took a deep breath as he slowly turned his head to the warm body beside him. That wasn't a dream? Kurt hissed.

Blaine groaned and turned over, nuzzling his head into the pillow and mumbling something in his sleep.

Kurt sighed. So that did happen.

Kurt could remember the details of last night perfectly, the memory still rather vivid in his mind. Kurt could remember the trailing kisses, the fumbling belt buckles, the—oh god. He scanned the floor and spotted his shirt and briefs flung across the room, Blaine's boxer shorts tossed casually over a lamp.

It was a one time—okay, two time thing. Last night was the last time. He was engaged. To um—to…to Josh! Yes. He was engaged to Josh. Shit—did he seriously just momentarily forget his fianc�'s name? He didn't right? It's early…that's all.

Kurt slowly crept out of the bed, scouring around for the remainder of his clothing. His clothes were ruined beyond repair, damaged from the rain, and then hastily tossed aside. Now what? Kurt thought to himself. He turned to look at Blaine, still sleeping soundly on the bed.

Kurt sighed and rummaged around, finding a clean button up dress shirt draped over a chair, deciding it was suitable enough to borrow for the time being. He'll have it dry cleaned and sent back later. How clich�, Kurt thought through clenched teeth, I'm wearing his shirt after we slept together…perfect…

Kurt glanced over to the other side of the room, unable to pull his eyes away from the handsome man still sleeping soundly in the bed. He sighed, and headed toward the bedroom door.

Kurt paced back and forth a couple times, wondering trying to figure out if he should wait till Blaine woke up before leaving, or avoid the whole 'morning after' awkwardness and just leave now.

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows. Everything felt so wrong, and yet…so not wrong. Why was he feeling like this? He shouldn't…right?

I can't—I just can't… Kurt shook his head, finally making his decision. He took one last glance around Blaine's apartment before tiptoeing to the front door. After a deep breath, he gently unlocked the door, and slipped out silently, cursing himself for ever coming here in the first place.

Blaine woke up with a sleepy yawn, and a smile on his face. The sun was shining in, and he could hear the gentle chirping of birds outside his window.

Wow, what a night.

Blaine stretched, chuckling a bit to himself, glancing around his room. Wait—

"Kurt?" Blaine called out, furrowing his eyebrows.

It happened, Blaine thought to himself. Throwing back his blanket, and pulling on some pants.

Blaine looked around, seeing Kurt's clothes still strewn across the floor. Yes, that definitely happened.

"Kurt?" Blaine called out again, walking out into the living room. Kurt wasn't in the living room, or the kitchen—not even in the studio. Blaine walked back into his bedroom, and picked up Kurt's wrinkled shirt from off the floor. Kurt left without his clothes? Did he escape out at sun rise and just streak across Brooklyn and back to Manhattan? Blaine scratched his head, where was Kurt?

Blaine walked around his apartment again once more, but still no Kurt.

Blaine sighed and flopped down on his sofa. His mind flashed back to last night.

The bed creeks underneath the weight of the two. Blaine moves Kurt up higher, straddling him. Blaine's hands wrapped tightly around Kurt's waist, his mouth trailing tiny kisses across his jaw. Kurt shivers as he feels Blaine's hand snake its way down to his pants before pushing his own mouth against Blaine's in a fiery kiss, letting his hands travel over Blaine's exposed skin.

Blaine's breath hitches as he feels Kurt's fingers tangling into his hair, pulling them closer, before pulling away.

Kurt looks at him with his blue green eyes, blazed with want. "Tomorrow this never happened."

Blaine shook the thought out of his head, and threw his head back, resting against the couch. "Damn it Kurt…" He said out loud, squeezing his eyes shut.

Blaine sat up suddenly. No. He doesn't just get to leave like that. Kurt does not get to prance right in here and just leave. It wasn't fair, and Blaine sure as hell deserved some sort of explanation, clarification—something, anything. Because he knew somewhere out there, Kurt was feeling just as confused as he was.

Blaine grabbed a tee-shirt from his room, and bolted out the door. He didn't know where he was going, but he was going to find Kurt, and they were going to talk this out.

As he approached the elevator to the apartment lobby, Blaine couldn't help but replay Kurt's words in his mind. "Tomorrow this never happened." Fuck. How could he say that? What does that mean?

The elevator opened into the main floor of the apartment, and Blaine stepped out, trying to figure everything out when—

"Kurt?" Blaine called out, spotting Kurt sitting on one of the chairs in the apartment lobby. Kurt…Kurt didn't leave?

Kurt sat still, staring down at the floor.

"Kurt? You're still here?" Blaine said, approaching Kurt, eyebrows furrowed.

Kurt slowly looked up, his eyes rimmed red. "Hey…"

"I—I thought you left or something." Blaine asked, knitting his eyebrows together.

"I tried," came Kurt's soft reply.

"Then why…why are you—" Blaine began, taking a seat next to Kurt.

"I don't know—I just couldn't leave." Kurt's voice was trembling slightly as he turned his head back to face the floor, his fingers fumbling with the hem of Blaine's borrowed dress shirt.

Blaine let out a breath, and looked awkwardly around the lobby, not spotting anyone around except the doorman, who yawned sleepily from his post.

"Look Kurt, come on, let's go back upstairs and talk this through." Blaine said gently reaching out for Kurt's arm.

"No." Kurt's head shot up, and he stood up quickly. "I—I can't."

Blaine's eyes fell slightly. "You say that a lot, but…you never really mean it do you?" asked, his voice barely louder than a murmur.

"We're not friends Blaine. It doesn't work that way. We'll never be just friends." Kurt said, his eyes wandering toward the front door.

"No…I guess not." Blaine said quietly, he'd acknowledged this fact since the incident in the office.

Kurt sighed and walked toward the door. He felt the gentle breeze against his face as he stepped outside, not daring to turn back.

He didn't get very far before hearing Blaine following behind him, stopping a few feet behind him. His expression was dark, and his words were cold. "You're running. You're always running from me."

Kurt stopped dead in his tracks, his head tilted down a bit, glancing at his shoulder, but he didn't turn. "It's because you're always forcing me to Blaine." He replied in a low, shaky voice.

"Not this time. This time, you're running because you're scared." Blaine growled, his piercing dark eyes staring at Kurt.

Kurt let out an angry chuckle, and turned around slowly. "Fine. FINE! Yes Blaine, I'm scared. I'm scared shitless." His eyes glared at Blaine, "You just had to come back into my goddamned life, and just—mess everything up."

Blaine didn't even flinch.

"You come here, and you—you made me…" Kurt paused, trying to blink away the hot tears now threatening to spill over.

Blaine strode forward, moving closer to Kurt, his eyes still locked on him, never daring to break contact. "Say it Kurt." Blaine urged, his eyes narrowed slightly, "I made you…what?"

Kurt's bit his lip, his voice barely at a whisper. "You made me love you again…now—now I don't know what to do…and—and just so you know, I don't regret it. I know I should, and I feel guilty but I've been thinking about it and…I just don't regret it—I feel like I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Blaine's cold expression melted away in an instant, and he just stood there, staring at Kurt. He did not expect that. He didn't expect that at all. He watched as Kurt bit his lip, and brushed a few stray tears from his cheek, and turn to walk away again.

"Kurt…" Blaine whispered. His legs seemed to have forgotten how to move. His mind was swirling with all these thoughts, all these mixed emotions—and he didn't know what to do.

Blaine raked his hands through his hair, watching as Kurt walked farther and farther away.

"DAMN IT." Blaine yelled angrily.

Kurt, now a several feet ahead, jumped, startled by Blaine's angry outburst.

Blaine jogged toward him, his eyes blazing. "Damn it Kurt—damn it." He growled, grabbing Kurt's hand roughly, forcing him to spin around to face him.

Blaine was breathing hard, his hazel eyes burning. Kurt looked up at him, his lower lip trembling.

"Damn it Kurt…" Blaine said again, this time softer, as he pressed his forehead against Kurt's and letting out a deep sigh.

Kurt let Blaine's hands intertwine with his as they stood there in the middle of the street, foreheads pressed against each others, neither one knowing what they were doing, or what they were going to do.

"What have we done Blaine?" Kurt whispered, feeling Blaine's hands squeeze his gently.

"I don't know…" Blaine murmured, pulling back to look into Kurt's eyes, and then pressing a kiss onto Kurt's mouth. "But I don't want to stop—I don't think I can stop now."

Kurt walked into the apartment quietly. Flicking on the lights, and watched as the entire penthouse lit up. Kurt let out a breath in relief. Josh wasn't home. He glanced around the familiar, spacious living room, so much different than Blaine's was. Everything seemed so proper, and neat, unlike Blaine's cozy apartment. The modern style of the apartment just made the whole place seem cold, and uncomfortable.

Kurt sighed, and shuffled to his bedroom. He casually tossed his bag onto an arm chair, and slipped into the bathroom. He gasped in horror as soon as he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, his eyes widening.

On his lower neck were obvious bruises, trailing down to his collarbone. His eyes were slightly puffy, and rimmed red, his normally perfect complexion was kind of blotchy. Kurt's hands trembled as he slowly unbuttoned Blaine's shirt, almost afraid of what marks he's find.

Kurt stopped halfway through the buttons and just let out a deep breath, turning away from the mirror and resting his elbows onto the bathroom counter. Shit.

Kurt could lie all he wanted, but there was no way Josh wouldn't notice the obvious marks all over his body.

Kurt took a long shower, letting the hot water rain down over him. He scrubbed every single inch of his body—knowing full well that no matter how much he scrubbed, he wasn't going to be able to scrub off the feeling of guilt and infidelity.

He dressed himself—utterly thankful for the cool New York whether—pulling on a sweater, and wrapping a scarf around his neck.

He glanced around, noticing the light starting to shine in through the large glass windows of his bedroom.

He picked up the plain white dress shirt he'd borrowed from Blaine off the bed. He sighed, folding it up and placing it at the bottom of his drawer.

He shuffled into the kitchen and found a note on the center island counter.

Kurt, Lucy called about the Manhattan road blocks. Sorry I wasn't able to get a hold of you, I wasn't sure which hotel you were staying at. I'll be late from work tonight. Love you.

~Josh

"What the hell have you done?"Kurt hissed loudly, running his fingers through his hair, and staring at the note guiltily.

Blaine walked back into his apartment, glancing around. He couldn't stop imagining Kurt everywhere in the apartment. The kitchen—Kurt sitting at the table, wrapped in a towel, slowly sipping his tea. His living room—where Kurt had glanced at a few of his paintings on the walls. The studio—where he and Kurt had kissed. The bedroom—Where he and Kurt…Blaine groaned and shook his head.

Blaine walked into his bedroom and picked up the remainder of Kurt's clothing off the floor, and threw them on top of the washing machine.

Blaine paced back and forth around his studio, wondering what the hell he was going to do. There was so much still left unsaid, he didn't know what he was going to do. He took a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket, with Kurt's name on it, and a phone number scrawled beneath it. He sighed and folded it back up.

After a few more paces around the living room, Blaine went into his bathroom bending over the bathroom counter, and stared at his reflection.

The chain around his neck hung out in front of him, exposing the silver band dangling at the end of it.

"Shit, Blaine." He cursed out loud, ducking his head down to rest on his hands, refusing to look up at his reflection. "What have you done?"