"My head hurts so much, I think I might die," I moaned, still afraid to open my eyes where I'd have to face the blinding daylight.

"Oh, Blaine! You're awake," I recognized Kurt's voice as it rang out loud and clear.

"No, I'm dead," I moaned into the pillow.

"You're not dead, sweetie. You're hung-over. There is a difference." Kurt's voice bellowed in my mind, and I was greeted with another burst of pain.

"Ugh, stop screaming. I hear you just fine, Kurt."

"If I talked any quieter, I'd just be moving my lips, Blaine," Kurt said, still horrifically loud, giving me a skeptical glare. "Stay here, I'll get you some Advil and a glass of water."

I didn't even notice that Kurt left the room. I didn't really notice anything, really. I kind of just let my mind go blank. It was a hell of a lot better than paying attention to the throbbing pain in my head or the twisting feeling in my stomach, of course. I did notice when Kurt came back, however. I could hear his footsteps getting louder and I opened my eyes enough to see him standing in front of me with a glass of water and some pills. I reluctantly grabbed them from him, quickly popping the pills in my mouth and gulping them down before I could think too much about it. I needed to feel better.

"You're going to be okay to leave tomorrow? We still have a bit of packing to do." Kurt ruffled my hair lightly. I smiled up at him. It actually felt nice.

"I'll be fine... I just need a nap." I paused, taking a breath of air. "I've had worse than this, trust me. Nick and Jeff used to drag me out every weekend..."

"I don't want to know, hun." Kurt said with a smirk. "Drink your water, it'll help."

Just then, much to both Kurt and I's horror, Burt Hummel wandered into the living room. It had slowly occurred to me that he didn't know exactly where I went the previous night.

"Kurt, have you seen my-" he took one look at my pathetic figure and halted dead in his tracks.

"Dad! Hi!" Kurt squeaked. Burt's expression was confused and analytical.

"What's Blaine doing on the couch?" I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. Luckily, Kurt was there to cover for me.

"Well he went out with Nick and Jeff last night..."

"And they drank?" Burt was a smart man, but really, I'm sure anyone could have assumed as much after looking at me. I was a huge mess.

"Only a little bit-" Kurt started.

"Then why does it look like Blaine is about to explode? He's hung-over! He did not drink "a little bit"."

"Well, he-" Kurt began, but I interrupted him, realizing that this was my mistake. I needed to fix it.

"I'm sorry, Burt. I didn't mean to drink that much, I just got carried away. I shouldn't have gone last night, I knew what Nick and Jeff were trying to do."

"Nick told me he wanted you three to go bowling..." Burt trailed, raising an eyebrow in a manner similar to Kurt's. The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree, after all.

"Ah, shit... No, he probably lied, sir. We went to Scandals." I sighed.

"The gay bar? Damn, you guys are underage! That's illegal!" Burt was definitely beginning to get worked up. I felt awful about it, because he was right. Even if I used to do it all the time with Nick and Jeff, it is illegal and I certainly shouldn't have gone out while I was living under Burt's roof. It was rude and disrespectful.

"Nick and Jeff... know people."

Burt let out a heavy breath.

"Well... it's too late now I guess. And you aren't my son, so I can't punish you. But I will talk to the parents of those two boys."

Kurt whipped his head up, his eyes ablaze with excitement.

"So we can still go to New York?" he asked eagerly.

"Well, I can't exactly tell you two not to. I know you didn't go out drinking so it wouldn't be fair to punish you, and you'd be miserable in the city without Blaine, so..." Burt trailed off, scratching the back of his neck and seemingly making eye contact with both Kurt and I at the same exact time.

"Thank you so much, dad!" Kurt stood up and reached his father quickly (triggering some major pounds in my head), enveloping him in a bear hug.

"I'm so sorry this happened, Mr. Hummel. It definitely won't happen again." I grumbled, rubbing my forehead slowly and gently.

"See that it doesn't, kid. Also, it's Burt. I swear, if you call me Mr. Hummel one more time I'll kick you out of my house." I smiled. I was always pretty formal around Kurt's dad. I was raised to be polite and call people by the proper term. But it was nice to know that I could call Burt his real name.

"Thank you, Burt."

"Right..." he trailed. "So do you boys need anything? Kurt, you've got the Advil?"

"Yeah, dad. I think we have everything under control." Kurt smiled lightly, giving his dad a look.

"Okay... well, come get me if you need anything. I'm going down to the garage in about half an hour, so..." Burt mumbled sort of under his breath, just barely audible by Kurt and I.

"Alright, dad. Thanks." Kurt said, clearly trying to dismiss his father. Which I wasn't complaining about. As much as I adore Kurt's dad, his presence was kind of awkward. Burt caught on to Kurt's hints and nodded and exited the living room, heading back upstairs. Kurt and I were now alone again, and I was capable of breathing, finally.

"That was close. I was terrified for your life for a minute." Kurt said, sitting down gently near my feet, his hand resting on my knee.

"God, your dad hates my guts," I breathed, putting my hand to my throbbing forehead, trying to calm it down again. Kurt smiled gently at me.

"No, he doesn't. He loves you. He just has to act weird around you because you are my boyfriend and he really cares about me and he doesn't want me getting hurt."

"I would never hurt you, Kurt." I said simply, closing my eyes and letting myself rest for a bit.

Kurt was silent for a moment. I felt his hand twitch ever so slightly on my knee. I opened my eyes to see his face flushing.

"Thank you, Blaine," he said simply, squeezing my leg in a comforting manor.

"What for?"

"For being the best boyfriend a guy could ask for. For being so loyal to me. For being able to go out and party all night and come home and wake up hung over on my couch and still have my dad adore you. You are just too good to be true."

"I love you, Kurt." I whispered. It was so true, the words didn't even express it enough. But at this point, I was exhausted and still miserable, so I let myself drift off to sleep. After all, Kurt would be there when I woke up. I had faith that he always would.