* * * * *

The next day, unfortunately, starts out with trouble. Kurt has a hangover (yes, they'd stayed on the roof and finished the drinks) and five missed calls on his cellphone, as well as a steaming father who's pacing up and down the room grumbling something about a girl named Angie...

...Angie?

Kurt is awake in 0.2 seconds flat, kicking off the sheets and stumbling to the window, his mind reeling.

Okay, we went down yesterday, Blaine went home. I lied about spending the day with him. It's okay... Dad's pissed but it's okay.

He grips the edge of the window as his body catches up to him and the remnants of the alcohol stab through his head. “Hnngh...”

“You okay?” his dad pauses in his pacing.

“...I'm fine,” Kurt grinds out. “What day is it?”

“It's Friday,” his dad says fiercely. “And I'm telling you to get your ass to school but first I want you to explain to me where the hell--”

“Burt?!” Carole calls from below. “Burt, honey, let the poor boy go to school. You can talk later.”

Sending a silent prayer to Carole, Kurt sprints past his dad to the bathroom and splashes water in his face. He looks tired and old, but it's nothing you can't fix with a little concealer.

After getting ready, he flies out the door and presses his cellphone to his ear. “Blaine? Blaine, you there?”

“Mhhhmmm... what?”

“Blaine! Are you still asleep?” Kurt yells directly into his phone. “Get up. My dad's onto us.”

“Kuuuurrr--”

“And why are you still asleep anyway? Shouldn't you be at school?”

“Chemistry teacher sick.”

“Well, good for you.” Kurt adjusts his satchel and grinds his teeth. “What are we going to do, Blaine? I knew we shouldn't have been drinking on the roof. I don't know how much my dad knows and what if I--”

“Relax, Kurt.” Blaine's voice is steadier now. The swish of blankets sounds in the background and a grunt as Blaine rolls out of bed. “You were half-asleep yesterday, so I carried you down. It's fine, he came in right after I left.”

“He didn't even wake me.”

“No, but I heard him swear even as I climbed down the wall. Maybe he smelled the alcohol or something.”

“But he wants to know where I was yesterday.”

“Then maybe you should just tell him about us.”

Kurt draws in a breath, holding it there and thinking. Knowing his dad, he'd probably assume Kurt is being used and no matter how he told the story, Blaine would always end up as the bad guy.

His train of thought is thrown off by the seriousness in Blaine's tone. “Kurt, I... I have an idea.”

“Shoot.”

“No, it's... not the kind of idea I can tell you over the phone.”

“Fuck, I can't come over right now. And neither can you, obviously. Ummm... we'll meet after Glee practice.”

“Fucking Glee practice.” Blaine's frustration is painfully clear in his voice.

“Blaine! They're my friends! Yes, I ran out on them yesterday – which is why I should make up for that – but they're important to me and I can't miss again.”

“Fine. We'll meet at Dalton. Come to the courtyard.”

Kurt has been at Dalton before; usually to pick Blaine up or pay him a surprise visit.

“Okay, see you then.”

“See ya.”

Rushing off to school, Kurt stuffs the phone into his pocket with more force than needed. He isn't a very impatient person, but the tone of Blaine's voice and his urgency... this would be a long, long school day.

* * * * *

Kurt parks near the school and hurries to the yard through blazor-clad teenagers. He feels queasy at the looks they give him and smiles back nervously, trying to look for Blaine. Well, looking for a boy in a blazer in a courtyard of boys in blazers it turns out, is quite difficult.

Eventually though, he sees him: bouncing curls and blazer and all. He runs toward him and pulls him aside and they sit on a bench as streams of students rush by.

“Listen, I've had some time to think about this and I don't know if this will work,” Blaine begins, wetting his lips and kneading his fingers.

Kurt groans. “Just fucking tell me, B.”

“I was thinking that maybe we should tell your parents we're going out.”

For one long second, Kurt waits and searches for the humor in Blaine's eyes, then he realizes there is no joke and with a high-pitched, “That was the idea?” he jumps from the bench and starts flailing his arms. “This won't solve anything – this is about my dad growing suspicious because I spend every other day running around with you and he doesn't know you and-”

“Exactly.” Blaine meets his eyes, still picking at his fingers. “Don't you think a boyfriend is the perfect excuse? You can tell him you didn't know how he would react, which is why you never told him where you went in the evenings. If we do it right, he'll warm up to me and I can start going to my best friend's house like a normal person.”

“This is crazy.”

“Listen, all I'm saying is that it sounds like a valid reason to be out at night. You've got a boyfriend who you like spending time with and protects you and whatnot.” He smiles and Kurt sits down reluctantly. “It's just pretending. And I'd really like to use your door for once.”

Kurt laughs in spite of himself and raises an eyebrow at Blaine. “You think this could work?”

“I think we should give it a go.”

“Then I trust you.”

Blaine smiles. It's a timid smile, one that speaks of his uncertainties but simultaneously voices his determination to follow through with his plan. This was Blaine Anderson's idea and he wouldn't back down.

Kurt leans forward and wraps him in a hug, just because he loves the fact that he isn't in this mess alone.

“Ready to face my dad, boyfriend?” he whispers jokingly.

“Ready.”