Kurt slipped off his coat as they walked, following behind Rachel and Finn. Blaine was on his heels, taking off his coat as well. They and the rest of the members of New Directions were spending New Year’s Eve in Rachel’s parent’s basement.

The last week since Christmas had flown by, in Kurt’s eyes. He and Blaine had managed to do something together every day (after Christmas shopping, ice skating, even a snowball fight on the front lawn), and Kurt was amazed that no one ever seemed to recognize Blaine.

Spending so much time with Blaine, seeing him so overjoyed almost made Kurt forget how broken Blaine had looked the night before Christmas Eve.

Almost.

He handed his coat to Rachel and smiled at Blaine, taking his hand.

*

Blaine wasn’t sure who actually broke into Rachel’s dad’s liquor cabinet, or that he’d only meant to have one drink.

One drink had somehow turned into three, and if he wasn’t careful, three was going to become four. He frowned at his glass, wondering where Kurt was. Blaine glanced around, vision a little blurry, trying to find Kurt.

“You really gay?” one of Kurt’s friends asked from the couch. The one with the mohawk. Blaine sank down onto the couch beside him.

“Really gay,” Blaine managed, looking at him. “You have spiky hair.”

“You don’t seem like you’d be gay,” Puck (that was his name!) replied.

“That’s... that’s off-off –“ Blaine tried to think of the word, but his brain was muddled.

“Offensive?” Kurt came up behind them, leaning down on the couch.

“Yes!” Blaine exclaimed. “You’re the bestest.”

“And you’re very drunk,” Kurt told him, smiling a little.

“Nu uh,” Blaine denied. “I had one,” he said, holding up three fingers.

“I see.” Kurt laughed. “I think you’re done, okay?”

“Okay,” Blaine agreed, reaching up his hand to touch Kurt’s cheek. “You’re pretty,” he sighed happily. Puck just arched his eyebrow in Kurt’s direction.

“Thanks.” Kurt patted the hand Blaine had put on his face. “Why don’t we get you something non-alcoholic to drink.”

“’Kay.” Blaine let Kurt pull him to his feet. Blaine put his arm around Kurt and lay his head on Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt steered him toward the drink counter, finding an unopened can of Diet Coke and popping the top. He handed it to Blaine, taking Blaine’s red cup from him.

“Drink some of this, okay?” Kurt encouraged.

“Uh oh!!” Rachel’s booming voice seemed even louder now that he was drunk, and Blaine turned, blinking at her. “Got you!” she crowed, coming up beside him and Kurt. “Looky!” She pointed up, and both he and Kurt followed her instructions. Blaine saw a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. Rachel must have kept it up even though Christmas was over.

Blaine locked eyes with Kurt, wanting nothing more than to kiss him, but not sure if Kurt would want it. “Kiss, kiss, kiss…” the others started chanting, until Kurt pressed a quick and almost virginal kiss on the corner of Blaine’s mouth.

“There,” he said, among the groans of disappointment from his friends. Blaine set his can down on the counter and pulled Kurt to him, kissing him thoroughly. He held Kurt’s face gently in his hands, and after a moment Kurt put his arms around Blaine’s neck.

He could vaguely hear catcalls and comments from everyone behind them, but he didn’t care because all that mattered was Kurt and kissing him senseless.

Blaine finally pulled away, he and Kurt both gasping for air.

“Well,” Puck said from behind them, “I guess he is gay.”

*

“Kill me.”

The muffled whisper was the first thing Kurt registered as he opened his eyes. He sat up slowly, the familiar walls of his bedroom failing to explain the voice he’d heard. He glanced down at the bed beside him, spotting Blaine’s curly head poking out from the covers.

The previous night came rushing back to him – Rachel’s party, Blaine getting drunk, making out with Blaine in front of all his friends…

Kurt blushed. He’d never live that one down.

“My head,” Blaine whispered again.

“Hangover?” Kurt finally found his voice, speaking quietly.

“Yeah.”

“Stay here, I’ll get you some water and aspirin,” Kurt told him, sliding out of bed. He had no idea what his father would say if he found Blaine in his bed, but he’d bet it wouldn’t be pretty. He sighed. Blaine hadn’t been in any shape to drive back to the hotel after the party, and Kurt hadn’t wanted his mother to see him like that. He hoped his dad would understand.

“Dad,” Kurt exclaimed, surprised to see his father in the kitchen so early on New Year’s Day. “You’re up early.”

“Carole made breakfast,” Burt gestured to the stack of muffins on the counter as he sipped his coffee.

Kurt grabbed two muffins and put them on a plate, before grabbing two bottles of water, and the bottle of aspirin from the upper cabinet where they kept most of their medication.

“Rough night?” Burt asked, eyeing his stack of goods.

“Blaine crashed here,” Kurt couldn’t bring himself to meet his father’s eyes. “He’s kind of… hung over.”

“You kids are drinking now?” Burt was definitely upset.

“No, I didn’t,” Kurt told him. “And neither did Finn. Some of the other guys did, though, and Blaine had some.”

“Remember that one strike rule we talked about?” Burt reminded Kurt.

“Dad, please.” Kurt set his stuff on the table. “He didn’t do anything wrong. We were at a party, he drank a little and I didn’t want him to drive back to the hotel that way.”

“You kids are too young to be drinking,” Burt replied.

“I know that,” Kurt agreed. “But it doesn’t make him a bad person. Please, Dad, don’t. I love him.”

“I know you do, kiddo,” Burt sighed. “Fine,” Burt waved Kurt off. “Go play Florence Nightingale.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Kurt said, picking his stuff back up, and heading to his room.

*

Blaine sighed happily, his head on Kurt’s shoulder. The two of them were cuddling on Kurt’s bed, watching When Harry Met Sally. They’d spent all day in Kurt’s room, snuggling together and watching movies – even their families had left them alone; Blaine’s mother was currently downstairs enjoying football or holiday shows or something with Carole and Burt and none of them had come upstairs for hours.

This had been his most enjoyable trip home since his time on Dalton, and Blaine knew he had Kurt to thank for that. He didn’t want to head home in the morning – back to the grind of shooting Dalton, and being apart from Kurt.

“How’s your head?” Kurt asked, looking down at him.

“Good,” Blaine answered. “I don’t want to go home tomorrow.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Kurt replied. Blaine met his gaze.

“Kurt I –“ Blaine’s heart pounded hard in his chest, his nerves suddenly going haywire.
He was in love.

He was in love with Kurt. A smile spread over his face.

“I love you,” he murmured, unable to pull his eyes from Kurt’s face. Kurt’s eyes widened, and panic set in. Maybe it was too soon. Oh, God, it was too soon.

“I love you, too,” Blaine barely registered Kurt’s voice, he spoke so quietly.

“What?” Blaine asked, thinking that he might have imagined it.

“I said ‘I love you, too,’ Blaine,” Kurt repeated. Blaine practically launched himself at Kurt, kissing him soundly.

Their tongues danced together, and Blaine felt like he was on fire everywhere. His cock was suddenly hard and aching, and his hands developed a mind of their own. Kurt broke the kiss, gasping for air.

“I know we said no visas for our hands and that’s cool,” Blaine murmured. “But what if we tried something else?”

“Like what?” Kurt asked, breathless.

“Can I take your shirt off?” Kurt looked uncertain for a moment, but then bit his lip and nodded. “Are you sure?”

“Can you take yours off too?”

“Yeah,” Blaine said, sitting up and whipping his shirt off over his head. Kurt sucked in a deep breath and his face slowly turned red.

“Okay, suddenly I’m feeling like maybe I want to keep mine on,” he said, eyes wide as he stared at Blaine’s bare chest.

“Please take it off?” Blaine pleaded. “I want to see.”

“I don’t look like you,” Kurt pointed out. “Why would you want to?”

“Because I do,” Blaine told him, his hand finding the edge of Kurt’s shirt and tugging on it lightly. “Please?”

Kurt stared at him for a moment longer, then closed his eyes and lifted his arms up. Blaine’s breath caught in his throat, and he slowly raised Kurt’s shirt up and over Kurt’s head.

“Oh,” he breathed out. Blaine couldn’t hold back any longer, pulling Kurt to him and kissing him fiercely. If he thought that making out with Kurt was amazing before, it was a million times better now. He couldn’t get enough of touching Kurt’s skin, so soft and smooth and God, the noises Kurt was making.

“Blaine!” Blaine let out a groan, hearing his mother call for him.

“No,” Kurt whimpered, pulling Blaine to him tightly. “I’m not ready for you to go yet.”

“I know,” Blaine sighed, kissing him again. “I know.

*

They walked downstairs hand in hand, fully dressed. Kurt fought back the tears that came to his eyes.

“Call me the minute you land,” he said.

“I will,” Blaine promised.

“It’s time to go, sweetie,” Eva told him, handing him his coat. Blaine nodded. He shook hands with Burt, and kissed Carole on the cheek, thanking them for having him over. Kurt watched him with a sad smile, and then it was Kurt’s turn.

“I wish you’d let me see you off at the airport,” Kurt murmured as Blaine moved closer and Kurt played with the buttons on Blaine’s coat.

“We've talked about that,” Blaine replied. “It’s too risky, we could get caught again,” he reminded Kurt. “Plus, we couldn’t do this.”

He kissed Kurt gently, and then rubbed their noses together before stepped back. “I love you,” Kurt managed.

“I love you, too,” Blaine replied, and then he ushered his mother out the door. Kurt waited until he was gone before letting a tear fall, and then threw his arms around his father, who held him tight.