After a few minutes to myself to think I follow Rachel back to the party. I decide I should have a talk with Blaine, tell him I told Rachel the truth - which he probably won't be too happy about. But when I walk back into the study I can't find him, so I walk over to Cooper to see if he knows where his brother is.

            "Last I saw he was talking to Quinn over there," he answers, motioning to the other side of the room. When we both look that way we see an unwelcome sight: Blaine arguing heatedly with Walter. Cooper groans "What the fuck is he doing?" before rushing over to drag Blaine away. I make my way over at about the same time as Quinn and Rachel.

            "You've never been happy with anything I do!" Blaine is exclaiming, pointing an accusing finger in his father's face. "Why can't you just realize I'm not you?"

            Walter rolls his eyes. "I know very well that you aren't me Blaine," he says. "If you were you wouldn't consort with the likes of him," he motions to me, "let alone do unspeakable things with him."

            Blaine snorts. "Yes because gay sex is so -"

            Before he can continue Cooper interrupts, yelling loudly, "Okay! Seems somebody's had a few too many celebratory drinks tonight!" Nervous laughter rings around the room as the four of us attempt to drag Blaine from the room.

            "Blaine sweetie, I think it's about time for you to go to bed," Quinn says as he struggles.

            "Nooo," he whines, trying to weakly to pull out of my and Cooper's grip on his arms. "I didn't say all I needed to."

            "You finish your talking with father tomorrow," Cooper says placatingly. Blaine seems to accept that and stops struggling so much.

            Cooper and I practically carry him up the stairs as Quinn and Rachel follow us up. When we reach the attic bedroom Blaine wrenches out of our grip and collapses on the bed I've been using. He breathes in deeply and sighs contently.

            "Mmm," he hums into the blankets. "Kurt, you smell so gooooood."

            Rachel giggles behind me and I turn to shoot her a glare before walking over to the bed.

            "Come on Blaine, you need to get out of your clothes before you wrinkle them," I say, attempting to flip him over.

            "M'kay," he mumbles, rolling over onto his back. "Have at it."

            I splutter, not believing what I just heard. "What?" I squeak.

            Blaine's eyes are closed and he motions lazily to his clothes. "You do it, I'm too sleepy."

            I swallow thickly. "O-okay." My hands shaking, I undo his bowtie and slip it off, but before I can start on the shirt his suspenders have to come off, so I ask Cooper to sit Blaine up so I slip them off. The entire time I swear I hear Quinn and Rachel giggling uncontrollably behind me so I turn around and tell them to help me with his shoes and pants. Once we have him stripped down to just his boxer briefs Cooper and I roll him to the head of the bed so we can pull down the covers. As I'm pulling the comforter over his chest I see something out of the corner of my eye so I glance up and notice for the first time a tattoo.

            "So that's where his tattoo is," I mutter to myself.

            "What was that?" Quinn asks from behind me.

            "Oh, um, I was just noticing his tattoo," I say. "What, uh, why'd he get it?"

            Quinn cocks her head at me, probably wondering why I don't know this. "Blaine hasn't told you?" she asks. When I just shake my head she sort of furrows her brows, thinking. Then her face lights up like she's figured out something and she starts to open her mouth, but Rachel grabs her hand and shakes her head at her.

            Cooper looks at the three of us, confused. Rachel seems to give him a significant glance because he nods slightly and turns back to me. "Well we should probably get back downstairs and help mother and father shoo the guests away," he says, and with that he, Quinn, and Rachel are gone.

            I start to get up from the bed where I was kneeling on the bed, but a hand shoots out and grabs my arm, stopping me. I look down and see Blaine has rolled over to face me and his eyes are open, staring up at me.

            "Please don't leave," he whispers with a slight slur. "Just cuddle with me, just for a little bit. Please."

I consider ignoring him and getting up anyway, but his eyes are pleading me, a desperation and vulnerability there I hadn't seen before. So I concede, whispering back "okay" before lying down next to him. He immediately scoots forward so he's as close to me as possible with the blankets between us, and pulls one of his arms out so he can wrap it around me and keep me in place. He rests his forehead against my chest, rubbing his nose against my shirt and sighing in content again.

After a few minutes Blaine's breathing slows and evens out.

I shift slightly to see if I can roll out of his grasp and get ready for bed myself, but his arm just squeezes me more tightly against him. I sigh in resignation and continue lying there. I look down and examine the top of his head. For some reason I get the urge to run my fingers through his curls. At first I struggle to resist the urge, but eventually I give in. As I card my fingers through I note how soft and springy his hair is. My actions draw another happy sigh from Blaine and he squirms ever closer, drawing a smile and chuckle out of me.

Damn he's adorable, I can't help but think.

 I spend a few more moments in Blaine's grasp, my hand making its way down to start stroking his jaw, before I realize myself and scramble out of the bed. Blaine whines at the loss of warmth and contact, his arms reaching and searching weakly. I grab the pillow I had been using from the head of the bed and place it in his hands. His body instantly wraps around the pillow, and he sighs contently yet again.

I run a shaky hand through my own hair, breathing slightly erratic. What the hell was that? I think. He... he likes how I smell? Is Blaine falling in love with me?

More importantly, am I falling in love with him?

When I wake up there's an enormous pounding in my head and I'm extremely nauseous. I groan as I attempt to sit up, my hands clutching my head and my eyes squinting against the bright light shining through the high attic window.

"Ugh what did I have to drink last night?" I croak.

I wasn't expecting an answer, let alone from him or so close, so I jump then groan again from the quick motion when Kurt says, "Probably a whole bottle of Jack Daniel's."

I turn toward the sound of his voice and find him standing right next to the bed, holding out a glass of water and a couple aspirin. "Here, drink this and take these."

I reach out and take them, swallowing the pills down harshly and gulping the rest of the water. When I finish I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and hand the glass back. Kurt sets it down on the bedside table - at which point is when I notice I'm not in the pull out for whatever reason - and crosses his arms.

I scrub at my eyes as I ask, "Did I do anything... inappropriate when I was drunk last night?" He stands there considering me for a moment, probably trying to decide if he should tell me whatever it is I did, which is just worrying. When he still doesn't say anything I groan. "Just spit it out already."

Kurt sighs in exasperation. "Fine," he says. "You got in a fight with your dad about how he never approves of anything you do. Then, when you were most likely about to tell him how great gay sex is, Cooper interrupted you and we dragged you up here." I groan at the thought of yet another fight with my father, and at the fact I was about to talk about gay sex in front of so many people. "Oh and you pretty much ordered me to strip you out of your clothes."

"I what?!" I squeak, and then gasp at the loud sound that erupted from my own throat, making my head pound. Kurt snickers at me. "Shut up," I groan, my voice muffled as I have my head resting on my drawn up knees and my hands clutching my hair.

"I have to admit," Kurt says, "you are quite the interesting drunk."

"I hate you. You're all clean and perfect and perky and ugh."

 Kurt laughs at me yet again, before stepping closer and grabbing my arm to pull me out of bed. "Now get up you," he orders. "You should shower, it'll help you feel better."

"Nooo," I whine. "I just wanna stayed curled up in bed and die."

Kurt purses his lips. "If you take a shower and change into fresh clothes I will bring up some breakfast for you," he offers. When I just continue clutching the bed he rolls his eyes before adding, "And I will try my best to prevent Cooper from coming up here and bugging you. Oh, and Quinn and Rachel as well; they came back earlier this morning to see how you were doing."

I contemplate the offer for a minute. "Fine," I concede. "But only if you bring up wheat toast with Nutella, orange juice with pulp, French toast with lots of maple syrup, turkey bacon, and a medium drip."

Kurt sighs in exasperation as he leads me to the bathroom. "All right. God, you are so high maintenance."

"Hello Pot, how are you today?" I say back sarcastically.

"Ooh the puppy is getting his bite back," he responds, shoving clean clothes into my hands before he slams the bathroom door in my face.

Sadly, I fail to come up with a good comeback.

I'm sitting in the study, reading a book and minding my own business since Kurt says Blaine doesn't want me upstairs while in his hung-over state, when Rachel and Quinn come waltzing in. I can just tell they have something to share with me, what with the way Rachel is buzzing with excitement - though, admittedly, she does do that a lot and it's often something mundane, but if Quinn's in on whatever this is it's probably good - so I mark my place, set the book down, and give them my undivided attention - though I have reservations considering what a headache Rachel gives me much of the time when I'm in the same room as her for too long.

"We have some - interesting news to share," Quinn says in her diplomatic fashion.

"Now technically neither of us should know, but I think Kurt just really needed to get this off his chest - and obviously I can't keep anything from Quinn -"

I interrupt Rachel before she can start babbling without end for hours. "What are you two talking about? What'd Kurt tell you that you aren't supposed to know?"

They share a significant look, which I give an affectionate eye roll to, before Rachel gushes out, "Blaine and Kurt aren't really engaged."

I raise a skeptical brow.

Quinn expands. "Apparently Kurt was going to be deported back to France so, to make sure he can stay for their upcoming fashion show Blaine agreed to marry him until everything gets sorted out - as long as he was promoted and his designs were used more."

Rachel turns back to Quinn. "Wait, Kurt didn't tell me any of that," she says, confused.

"It's not hard to figure out baby," Quinn says with a sort of superior smirk.

Lips pursed and brow furrowed, I consider what Quinn just told me. "You know," I say, "now that I think about it I did feel like something was off. I mean it's clear Blaine is in love with Kurt, and vice versa but -"

"But they're just too oblivious to realize it," Quinn finishes.

"Exactly."

"Actually," Rachel speaks up, "I think Blaine's realizing he has feelings for Kurt. That's probably why he drank so much last night - he was either trying to bury the feelings or hoping the alcohol would help him figure them out."

I sigh. "That does sound like Blaine."

"And I got the feeling, when he told me about the engagement being fake, that Kurt's starting to feel bad about doing this to Blaine," Rachel continues. "I think he's developing feelings too, he's just further behind than Blaine is."

I frown. "He'd better feel bad," I say. "Because if Blaine falls in love with him, and I get the feeling he's already well on that path, and he breaks my little brother's heart - not to mention puts his career in jeopardy, and gets him tossed in jail - that boy is in for a world of hurt."

"Cooper, calm down," Quinn says, placing a soothing hand on my arm. "I don't think it's going to come to that - at least I hope it doesn't."

I hum in agreement, thinking about this whole odd situation when an idea comes to me.

"What if we make sure it doesn't come to that?" I ask.

"Pardon?" Quinn asks.

"What if we can find a way to make sure neither of them get hurt in all this?"

She furrows her brows, confused. "How would we do that?"

Rachel gasps in realization. "We start dropping hits to the both of them about the other, steer them in the right direction -"

"And eventually they'll see what's right in front of them," I finish with a smirk.

"That's all well and good," Quinn says, "but how exactly are we going to go about this?"

"I think I have an idea," I answer, the gears starting to churn in my head.

"Hey Kurt!" a voice exclaims all of a sudden from behind me.

I jump in shock and clutch at my chest. "Fuck Rachel, don't sneak up on a person like that!" I scold.

"I have to talk to you about something," she says, not sounding sorry at all.

I sigh, already exasperated with her. It probably doesn't help I've been dealing with a hung-over Blaine all day - who seems awfully spiteful today.

 "So what was it you wanted?" I ask, turning around to face Rachel, getting ready to take up another cup of coffee for Blaine.

Why am I taking care of him? I wonder for not the first time today. His mother should be doing this. Or Cooper! He's the reason Blaine got drunk in the first place...

"Why are you doing this to Blaine?" she asks, nay demands.

I raise a brow. "And what, exactly, do you think I'm doing to Blaine?"

"You're hurting him. All these secrets and lies - that's not what he needs. Not from the man he loves," she explains.

Are those tears in her eyes? I think incredulously.

I frown. "What are you talking about?" I ask, feigning confusion. "Blaine doesn't love me."

"Yes he does," she responds immediately. "And you know he does! So why are you treating all this like you don't care? Blaine could go to jail if INS found out this is all a sham. Not to mention the fact you're breaking a man who's still healing. "

"Because I don -"

"No, you do care!" Rachel interrupts. "Otherwise you wouldn't have felt like you had to tell me what's really going on. You need help in this, you just don't realize it."

            What she's saying makes way too much sense, and I don't want to think about it. I don't want to think about the fact that I could be breaking Blaine's heart, along with mine in the process. So I shove past her, though she tries hard to stop me, and head toward the stairs.

"I don't have time for whatever you're playing at Rachel," I call over my shoulder, forcing the quaver out of my voice. "I have a hung-over puppy to attend to."

"What the hell was that?" I demand in a stage whisper as Rachel walks back into the study. My hand itches to reach out and smack her upside the head, but I have a feeling Quinn wouldn't be too happy about that so I tamp the urge. "I told you to be subtle! Now everything's ruined!"

Rachel rolls her eyes at me, which just makes holding my hand back even harder. "Please, I know what I'm doing."

"Really?" I deadpan. "Because it seems to me you have no idea what you're doing!"

"Coop, calm down," Quinn says from beside me, twinning her fingers with the hand I wanted to smack Rachel with.

She knows me too well, I think with a slight chuckle.

"Trust me Cooper," Rachel explains. "Kurt is just like me, I know him. He just needs a little push."

I give a relenting sigh. "I suppose you're right," I admit.

"Of course she is," Quinn says affectionately, all starry-eyed.

"You two are too adorable," I finally say, having been wanting to say that since last night. Quinn blushes slightly and Rachel beams. Before Rachel can start on another rant or something I say, "Now for the next part of the plan."

"Guess I'm up," Quinn says with a smirk.