Blaine could hear Kurt barreling down the steps. He had wanted to stop him. Wanted to comfort him. But he knew it had been a big step for Kurt to open up to him at all. He didn't want to push his luck.

He felt like he understood Kurt better now. Understood his actions. He was afraid to get close to people because he was afraid he'd lose them. But that was no way to live. Blaine hoped that eventually, he'd be able to get through to Kurt. Show him that it's worth taking a chance. Because the more Blaine got to know Kurt, the more sure he was that Kurt deserved the world. There was more to Kurt Hummel than the rest of the world knew, and Blaine was determined to learn it all.

But it would have to wait. Blaine didn't want to push Kurt, because he didn't want to scare him away. He had to wait for Kurt to contact him on his own time. Maybe the next time they saw each other Kurt wouldn't even want to talk. Maybe it would go back to the way it had been before, although Blaine sincerely hoped it didn't. But no matter what, he had to wait for Kurt to be ready.

A month passed, and still no word from Kurt. Winter break was coming to an end. He'd had a good Christmas, and spent a lot of time with Mike and Tina in his days off from school, but he couldn't help but wonder if Kurt was alright, and what he was doing.

There were a couple times when Mike and Tina had caught him zoning out, and asked him what was wrong, but he'd just lied and said that it was nothing. They'd been skeptical, but dropped it.

It was New Year's Eve, now. Nearly midnight. Blaine was sitting alone in his room. His parents off at a party somewhere, and he had been reluctant to go to any parties himself. He really wasn't much of a party guy, and the last time he'd gone to one he'd ended up spending the night at Kurt's.

He decided he'd risk it.

He pulled out his phone and texted Kurt.

To Kurt: Happy New Year!

Kurt was at a New Year's Eve party with all of the Cheerios. He'd been drinking, trying to rid his mind of the nagging thoughts he'd been having about Blaine ever since their conversation about a month ago. Santana was sitting next to him, whispering something in Brittany's ear, who was sitting on her lap. Kurt rolled his eyes.

He got up and walked over to a table with alcohol, picking up a bottle, not bothering to see what it was, or get a cup. He took a few swigs straight from the bottle, and sat down on the floor, his head spinning.

He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, and pulled it out to see a text from Blaine wishing him a happy new year.

Just then, the ball dropped, and everyone cheered, welcoming in the new year.

"Fuck." Kurt mumbled to himself.

He wanted to go home. He felt like shit, and everyone was too loud. He just wanted to climb into bed and sleep for days.

And now he had Blaine on his mind as well. That fucker. Why did he have to text him? Although it's not like he was doing a very good job keeping him off his mind anyway.

Kurt rubbed his forehead, trying to think straight, and get rid of his pounding headache. He was pretty sure he'd never had this much alcohol in such a short period in all his life.

Everyone at the party was drunk, so it was no use asking any of them for a ride home.

He looked down at his phone, the text from Blaine still lighting up the screen, and pushed the 'call' button.

After a few rings, he heard Blaine answer, although it was hard to hear through the music and loud sounds of the party, along with the ringing in his ears. How drunk was he?

"I need a ride." He slurred.

"You what?" Blaine asked.

"I. Need. A. Ride."

"Kurt, are you drunk?"

"No, Anderson. I'm sober on New Year's Eve. Of course I'm fucking drunk."

"Where are you? I'll come get you."

"I don't fucking remember." Kurt half shouted. "Dammit, I'm so fucking smashed." He mumbled to himself. "Hang on."

He was silent for a few seconds, looking around for Santana, and then...

"LOPEZ! Where the fuck are we?!"

"At my house, Hummel! How drunk are you? Jesus." Santana called back to him.

"I'm at Santana's, apparently." Kurt informed Blaine.

"Oh, good. I've been there before. I know exactly how to get there. I'll be right over. Just...Go outside, but don't leave the front porch. Maybe some fresh air will sober you up."

Kurt nodded and hung up the phone. He started heading for the door.

"Where ya goin', Kurty?" Brittany asked as he passed her.

"Home." Kurt said dryly, walking out the door.

But then he realized he couldn't go home. His dad was there. And although his dad knew he wasn't always the best kid, he didn't know that he got smashed off his head on an almost weekly basis, or that he fucked pretty much any gay guy that crossed his path. He couldn't go home drunk like this. He didn't need his dad asking questions.

"Shit..." He breathed in a few lung fulls of fresh air, and tried to calm his queasy stomach.

Blaine pulled up about ten minutes later and hopped out of the car.

"Kurt. Kurt, are you okay?"

"What do you care?" Kurt snapped.

"Am I not supposed to care?" Blaine asked.

"I don't fucking know, Anderson. Are you?"

Silence.

"Look. I can't go home. My dad's there. You can just...You can just go on back home. I'll ask Lopez if I can stay here for the night."

"Kurt, you're drunk. You need to go home. If....If you can't go back to your house, you can come to mine."

"You're kidding me, right? You do recall that last time we slept in the same bed I woke up and you had me in a cuddly death grip, right? No way, Anderson. Not gonna fucking happen."

"I'll sleep on the couch. Just...Please. I'm worried about you."

"What right do you have to be worried about me? I told you one story. One fucking story about my past, and now you think you're entitled to worry about me? We're not friends. We're not even acquaintances. You know what, go home. Delete my number. Leave me the fuck alone. I don't need you in my life. I don't want you in my life. Just...Stay away from me."

And that's when Kurt started crying. Horrible, heart wrenching sobs that shook his whole body, and he fell to the ground, not able to stand on his own two feet any longer.

Blaine picked Kurt up off the ground, carrying him to his car. Kurt didn't have the resolve to fight. He went along, letting himself be carried. Feeling safe in Blaine's arms, and hating himself for feeling that way.

Blaine set him down gently in the back seat, and began driving to his house.

The car ride was quiet, aside from an occasional sniffle from Kurt.

Blaine pulled into his driveway and got out, walking around the the other side of the car, and opening the door of the back seat for Kurt to get out.

Kurt turned away from Blaine, wiping his eyes.

"Come on, Kurt. We're here. Just get out of the car." Blaine urged.

"I told you to stay away from me. Why would you bring me here?" Kurt was having trouble breathing at a normal pace, gasping for air, warn out from all the tears.

"Because, whether this offends you or whatever or not, I fucking care about you. And I know I'm not supposed to, and all I am to you is a fuck buddy, but I just wanted to make sure you're alright. And hopefully you're too drunk to remember me saying this tomorrow, or else I just fucked everything up. But PLEASE, just get your ass inside, Kurt."

Blaine regretted saying the words as soon as they left his mouth. What the fuck was he thinking? That was probably the last thing he should have said to Kurt if he wanted him to come inside.

But to his surprise, Kurt was getting out of the car.

"Fine. Take me inside. But tomorrow morning, I leave, and we never speak to each other again. Got it?"

And there it was. Blaine HAD fucked this up. All he could do was pray that Kurt didn't remember any of this in the morning.

Blaine walked into the house, and Kurt followed. They went up to Blaine's room, and went inside.

"Just because we're in your room together doesn't mean anything's happening, so don't get any ideas, Anderson."

"God, Kurt...I don't want anything to happen. That's not what this is about. I just want you safe. You're the one who called me, remember?"

Kurt huffed, folding his arms across his chest, and going to sit in Blaine's desk chair.

"Let me go get you a glass of water." Blaine said, before leaving the room.

He didn't want to leave Kurt alone for very long, so he quickly ran downstairs, grabbed a cup, and filled it with water from the tap.

"Here." He said, upon entering the room, shoving the glass into Kurt's hand.

It took him a few moments before he realized Kurt was crying again. Silently this time.

"...Kurt?"

"What?" Kurt snapped, taking a sip of his water.

"Are you okay? You're crying again."

"No, I'm not. My eyes just water when I'm drunk." Kurt said, wiping his eyes. "Dammit."

"Kurt, please talk to me." Blaine begged.

"No! No, Anderson, I don't want to fucking talk to you. I talked to you once, and that was one time too many."

"Kurt, you can't just-"

"Please. Please just stop trying to get close to me. Please." Kurt's voice broke on the last word, and Blaine wanted to hug him.

"Look, Kurt. I know you're scared. I know that after losing your mom you're afraid to get close to people. I get it. But-"

"You don't know one God damn thing about me! You don't know me! Okay? You don't! Why can't you just get out of my life?"

"Fine. Maybe I don't know you. But I want to."

Kurt set his water down on the desk then, stomping over to Blaine, who was sitting on the bed, and slapping him squarely across the face.

"You can't!"

Blaine held his cheek, the surprise of the slap overpowering the sting in his flesh.

"Kurt..."

Kurt sat down on the bed next to Blaine then and started sobbing once more.

"Kurt..." Blaine said again, trying to hold back tears of his own.

"I'm sorry, Blaine. I'm sorry."

Blaine felt his heart stutter in his chest at the use of his first name. That was reserved for special occasions, it seemed.

"It's okay, Kurt." Blaine told him, reaching out and rubbing his back.

"No. It is not okay." Kurt snapped, but didn't pull away from Blaine's gentle touch on his back.

"It really is, Kurt. There probably won't even be a mark. It barely even hurts."

"I'm not just talking about the slap. I'm talking about...all of it."

"All of what?" Blaine asked, confused.

"The way...The way I treat you." Kurt began to cry harder, his whole body shaking yet again.

Blaine knew it was all because of the alcohol. Kurt being so open, and allowing himself to cry. But he couldn't help but feel special that he was the one Kurt was with.

"C'mere." Blaine urged, scooting up the bed, and leaning against the headboard. He pulled Kurt to him, and wrapped his arms around him tightly. Kurt struggled to break free at first, but ended up giving in.

"We can't do this anymore, Blaine..."

"Do...Do what?" Blaine asked, having a hard time swallowing around the lump in his throat.

"Be...around each other. We can't...I can't do it anymore."

"Why?" Blaine asked. He didn't understand what had spawned this. He thought he and Kurt had been making progress.

"Because...Because I like you, Blaine."

Blaine's breath hitched in his throat, and he had to take a moment to make sure he'd heard correctly.

"...Oh."

"Yeah." Kurt said, wiggling a little in Blaine's arms, but Blaine just held on tighter than ever.

"Stop." Blaine said. "Stop trying to make me let you go. Just...talk to me for a second."

Kurt sighed in defeat.

"Why can't you be around me anymore, just because you like me? I mean, isn't that sort of the opposite of how it's supposed to go? When you like someone, you spend time with them."

"But I don't like people, Blaine. Not ever." Kurt reluctantly laid his head on Blaine's shoulder. Although Blaine was sure his neck muscles were just tired from straining away from him. Not to mention, he was probably tired. It was late, and he'd consumed who knows how much alcohol.

"But don't you want to?"

"No." Kurt said simply.

"Just give it a try, Kurt. You need people in your life who care about you. And believe it or not, I think a lot of people would, if you gave them the chance."

"But that's exactly what I'm worried about. If I give enough people a chance, one of them is going to end up hurting me. I can't...I can't risk it. I can't."

"You have to, Kurt. You're not living life to its full potential."

Kurt pulled out of Blaine's grasp then, moving to sit across the bed from him, looking at him.

"I don't have to do anything, and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't try to tell me what to do." He snapped.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to...boss you around, or anything like that. I just don't want to see you throw your life away. You're worth so much more than that."

"How do you know what I'm worth?"

"I can see it in you." Blaine said. "Whenever we have conversations like this. Conversations where you open up. You're amazing."

Blaine could feel himself blushing.

"I'm not amazing. I'm a slut."

Blaine crawled across the bed, grabbing Kurt's hands. He felt Kurt flinch, but held on tight.

"You're not. You're not a slut."

"I can't even name every guy I've slept with. Look me in the eyes and tell me I'm not a fucking slut, Anderson."

Kurt didn't seem too drunk anymore. Blaine sort of hoped he'd remember all this tomorrow. Because he felt like they were on the verge of a breakthrough.

He looked Kurt directly in the eyes, and said "You're not a slut. Please believe me."

"I can't believe you. Not when there's so much evidence against you."

"Sleeping around doesn't make you a slut."

Kurt scoffed.

"It doesn't." Blaine insisted. "The intent behind sleeping around is what makes someone a slut."

"Yeah. And my intent for sleeping around is that I like being fucked. So please...Please just give up on me. Give up. I'm not worth it."

"You are worth it, Kurt. And you're not a slut, because I'm pretty sure the only reason you slept around was because deep down, you wanted someone to love you, but you were too afraid to admit it, even to yourself. And you know what, Kurt? I'm not gonna let you go back to that. I'm right here, and I want to help you. Please let me help you open up to people. Make friends. Anything."

"It's too late for me." Kurt said, looking down at their joined hands.

"It's not too late to try. Please?"

"I'm tired..."

Blaine sighed, but decided to drop it for now. Kurt needed rest, and he was pretty tired himself.

"Okay. I'd better go set up the couch for myself downstairs. You can take the bed."

"You don't...You don't have to." Kurt swallowed hard. "You can just...sleep here. With me." Kurt said, getting under the covers.

"Um...O-okay. I'll make sure to stay on my side of the bed this time. No cuddling." Blaine was under the covers now, too.

He felt Kurt inch up behind him, and wrap an arm around his waist. He breathed in sharply, taken aback by Kurt's initiation of physical affection, but quickly relaxed into the hold.

"Goodnight, Kurt." He whispered. But Kurt was already asleep.

He knew there would be a lot to discuss tomorrow. He still wasn't really sure where they stood. But for now, he was just going to revel in the feel of Kurt's arm, strong and sure around his waist, and worry about the rest when the time came.