"Blaine" Kurt panicking. Blaine fainted, falling right into his arms. "Come on, Blaine, wake up!" Blaine smelled of alcohol and sweat. Kurt stirred vigorously his bare shoulders, but he didn’t react. "Fuck!" Kurt looked around for help, but a lot of drunks were not going to be any help. "Blaine, please." his eyes were closed and Kurt made sure he was still breathing.

He took him by his arms and dragged him to the nearest room he found: the bathroom.

He turned on the lights and dragged him to the bath tub. Kurt put him lying inside.

Kurt didn’t really know what to do to wake him up, but he had seen in many movies and tv shows that a cold shower was always the right choice.

He searched for the tap and made the cold water fall on Blaine's face.

"I hope this works ..." Kurt told himself. Blaine didn’t react. Beads of sweat rolled down his face and his bare chest. No blinking, not moving, no breathing. "Fuck, no no, Blaine, please stay here with me!" Kurt got into the tub too, holding Blaine up, but nothing seemed to happen. He came up behind him and pressed hard Blaine's stomach, trying to make him vomit, but nothing happened. "Come on, Blaine, honey, please .." whispered next to his ear. He kept pressing his stomach again and again until Blaine finally woke up, taking a deep breath, as if he had been drowning, and vomited. He coughed and vomited all the alcohol he had consumed. It smelled bad. So bad that Kurt was about to vomit too. His pants were getting dirty and wet, but in that moment, Kurt could not care less "Thank God .." he said quietly, breathing normally again.

He held Blaine until he stopped throwing up and once he calmed, he took him out of the tub and sat him carefully on the closed toilet.

Blaine was staring and seemed to still be really really drunk.

“Blaine, hey, sweetie” Kurt said, wiping his face with a towel that he had soaked in water. Blaine looked tired and sick to his stomach. “I’m going to get you out of here as soon as you feel better, okay?” Kurt threw the towel to the laundry bucket he found beside the tub and let the water run down the bathtub, cleaning his pants that although didn’t seem stained, he couldn’t help feeling dirty.

Blaine was sitting, trying to keep his eyes opened and swaying slowly forward and backward. Kurt grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Hey, talk to me, Blaine.” Kurt quickly said when he thought he saw Blaine closing his eyes again. He reopened them when he heard Kurt's voice.

“K-kur-t.” Blaine replied perplexed. Kurt smiled, relieved.

“I’m here, i’m here.” Kurt sat on his knees, in front of him, to be at his height.

“Where a-am- i?” Blaine began to look everywhere scared. His breathing was getting stronger. He was getting nervous and Kurt didn’t know how to calm him down.

“Don’t worry, we’re at Puck’s bathroom. Relax, Blaine, please.” Kurt grabbed his cheeks with his hands and forced him to look at him. “You scared me.” He confessed.

Blaine tried to smile, but he was too drunk r03;r03;to understand what was happening.

“Blaine, is there anywhere you can go? Your house? Do you want me to drive you home?” Kurt suggested.

“No-o no my hou-use no ple-ease.” Blaine grabbed Kurt's shirt, leaving inches of separation between the two of them. His breathing was choppy and nervous.

“Okay, okay, not your house, I got it, calm down.” Kurt pulled away from him and tried to find a solution. If he could not take him home, he had only one option. “I’m taking you to my house, okay? I’ll take care of you tonight.” Blaine looked like a stray dog that had just found an owner. “Would you like that?”

“Yes. Than-nks Kurt.” Blaine replied, bringing his body next to the bathtub and vomiting again.

Kurt looked away and covered his nose, trying not to throw up too.

“I’m ready t-to go.” Blaine said when he finally stopped throwing up.

“Let’s go, honey.” Kurt helped him up and put his arm around his waist, making sure he didn’t fall to his feet.

They left the bathroom, Kurt still leading Blaine, and made their way through the crowd.

The music was loud and the crowd was even more drunk than before.

They danced on tables, kissed any stranger that was in front of them and they had just begun a wet T-shirt contest as Kurt could see when they passed the living room.

“You smell so good, K-kurt. Always.” Blaine whispered sensually, trying to get closer to Kurt's neck to kiss him. He laughed and pulled him away, because he was drunk and he was not aware of anything he was saying.

I guess Blaine is an affectionate person when he drinks.

“You’ll regret this in the morning, Anderson.” Kurt said still laughing.

When they reached the car, Blaine had said too many things that will surely make him be ashamed when he had sobered up in the morning.

Kurt looked sideways at Blaine, making sure he wasn’t going to throw up in his expensive car.

Driving was not hard, but it was kind of complicated when you were next to a drunk that kept on philosophizing about life out loud.

"What if we were meant to be friends, Kurt? What if that we were put in pairs in French was not pure coincidence?"

“Blaine, we sat together in French. It was obvious that one day we were going to do some work together. And stop touching my things and put that back to where it was." He warned him when he saw him examining Kurt’s air fresheners.

He began to smell them, making different faces that made Kurt laugh. He really looked like a 5 year old.

“I’m bored.” Blaine finally said, turning the radio on. “Don’t like it. Don’t like it. Don’t like it.” He said as he quickly pressed the buttons to skip from one radio station to another.

“If you break it, i swear you are buying me a new one, Blaine, stop it!” Kurt was going to put his hands away when suddenly, he stopped pressing the buttons. He looked concentrated. He seemed to have found the station he wanted.

The first notes of the song began and as if he didn’t really care that Kurt was there, Blaine began to sing at the top of his lungs.

“Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time” he sang perfectly. Kurt smiled and then Blaine was pretending to be playing an invisible piano. "I feel alive" sang leaning on Kurt.

"You're crazy." Kurt laughed, failing to stop smiling. He had never heard him sing before, but the truth was that his voice was powerful and strong. And beautiful. It even gave Kurt chills. They could really use his voice on Glee Club.

“And the world it's turning inside out, yeah!” stuck his head out the window and kept on singing.

“Blaine, stop it! You are going to hurt yourself!” Kurt tried to grab him, but he pulled away and continued his performance.

“I'm floating around in ecstasy” several people who were still on the streets applauded him and others just shouted fuck you or go to sleep, but nothing seemed rain on Blaine’s parade. He sat back again in his seat and Kurt took a deep breath of relief. “So don't stop me now” he sang, pointing at Kurt, who was laughing loud again. “Don't stop me” he was now playing invisible drums. “Cause I'm having a good time, having a good time!!” and finally, Blaine exploded in a wave of joy and energy and kept singing and yelling out the window. Kurt enjoyed it and laughed and he no longer tried to stop him.

Seeing him that way only made his heart beat faster, harder, more eager.

Blaine made him feel alive.

And also maybe in love.  

"Okay, you sleep here," Kurt told Blaine, pointing to an extra bed that he had pulled out of a closet. "And I'll sleep in my bed, okay?" Blaine hadn’t stopped looking everywhere since they had arrived and he really looked like he had not heard a word Kurt had said.

Kurt rolled his eyes and threw him a pair of pyjamas. Blaine looked at them confused.

"Do I also have to help you dress up?" Kurt asked when he saw his reaction. He picked new pyjamas from his closet and went to the bathroom to put them on. When he returned, Blaine was lying on his bed and had not changed clothes. "Oh no no, honey, no" said to Blaine pulling his arm, trying to get him up. He resisted a little, but finally agreed and got to his feet. "Okay, first you are going to change your clothes, okay, Blaine?" Blaine nodded like a puppy that had just been punished. "Got it for real?" Kurt raised an eyebrow. Blaine was staggering forward and backward, but nodded. "So, what are you going to do first?"

“Sleep.” said falling again on Kurt’s bed.  

Kurt snorted.

“I’m having none of your business tonight, Blaine! If you don’t get up and change your clothes, you’re sleeping in the street! ” Kurt shouted angrily. Burt had to work hard that night to deliver a car the next morning, so he probably wasn’t at home.

Blaine got up quickly and began removing his pants and shoes, ending up in only his boxers.

Kurt, who stood in front of him with folded arms, held out his pyjamas, but he pushed them away.

“No pyjamas” Blaine nodded. Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe you don’t wear pyjamas at your house, but you are going to wear them in mine. Come on. " said Kurt holding the pyjamas to him until he finally caught them, half asleep, and put them on. "Very good. Now you sleep in that bed." Kurt pushed Blaine slowly until he sat on the bed and let him there to lie down by himself.

Kurt turned off the light and got into his bed sheets.

“Kurt.”

“What.” Kurt said turning the light from his lamp night on again. Blaine was still sitting on the end of his bed.

“Can i sleep with yo-ou?” Blaine’s back was facing him and Kurt was kind of thankful he wasn’t looking directly at him, because he had the most puzzled expression on his face right now.

“You don’t like your bed? Isn’t it comfortable?” Kurt asked as he sat up on his bed back again.

“It-s not th-at.” Blaine turned to face him. He seemed tired and still drunk, but there was something in the way he looked at Kurt that made him feel Blaine was totally aware of what he was saying.

“I think it’ll be better if we sleep in different bed, okay, Blaine?” Kurt replied softly.

“Okay.” Blaine lay down on his bed and put his hands behind his head.

Kurt turned off the light again, still wondering what had that been. Of course he knew he was drunk, but Blaine was not gay. And he kept complimenting him and trying to approach to him. It was confusing because Kurt liked being with Blaine, but he had always thought Blaine hated him. But after tonight, Kurt would have so much to think about.

“Kurt.” Blaine called him again.

Kurt rolled his eyes, tired, and didn’t even turn the lights on back again.

“I swear if you complain about anything more I’m going to-“

“I think I love you.”

Kurt’s heart stopped beating. His eyes opened wide and he almost forgot how to breathe.

There was no answer. He could not answer.

Everything was silent, except for Kurt’s heart, that was beating faster than ever in his chest.

Kurt didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have anything to say.

Blaine had just confessed he loved him? Him?  Kurt Hummel? A guy?

Last time Kurt checked, he was sure Blaine was into girls. Like really into girls.

“Blaine..” whispered Kurt, turning to face him and leaning on his side. But when he was about to say something, he heard him snoring.  “Great.”

The light entering from the window caressed his perfect, firm profile while his snoring was getting louder. He looked at him sleeping for a few minutes, watching how his chest rise and fall with each breath he took, how his mouth was ajar, how his curly already dry hair fell a little in his forehead, how he finally seemed in perfect peace ... Kurt swore he even saw him smiling.

Today he had known one side of Blaine that he had ever seen before. He had seen him vulnerable, scared, happy ... And he could not be more pleased with the Blaine he was getting to know. But he felt that what had happened had been the effect of alcohol and in reality Blaine didn’t think Kurt was hot or that tight pants fitted him so well he or that he loved him.

And with a thousand unanswered questions going round and round in his head and with the fear of wondering if Blaine would forget or regret it the next morning, Kurt turned his head and stared at the ceiling.

The question now was: Was he in love with Blaine?

Everything ached. His head, his legs, his stomach, his arms. It looked like he had been beaten. Whatever had happened the night before, it had sure been amazing, he though.

Blaine opened his eyes slowly, carefully, preparing himself to see the light in his window hit him as usual. But oh.

“Where the fuck am i?” Blaine quickly sat up and looked around. Definitely, this was not his room. He looked at himself in the mirror that was in front of the bed. And those  were not his pyjamas.

The room was perfectly decorated and tidy. Blue and white were the most predominant colors. There was a closet in front of the bed that had mirrors and he could catch a glimpse of tens of shoes piled perfectly on shelves. A door on his left leaded to a bathroom, as he could see.

Blaine looked at the other bed that was on his right. No one was there, but it seemed someone had been there before because the sheets were crumpled.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to wake from that dream or nightmare or whatever that was.

“Good morning.” said a familiar voice, coldly.

Blaine turned his head quickly, following the voice, and saw Kurt leaning on the door.. 

“What am i doing here?” Blaine asked finally.  Kurt breathed deep and crossed his arms. He didn’t move. He kept leaning on the door and didn’t reply for the next 30 seconds that seemed eternal. Blaine had a feeling he was missing something.

“You got drunk at Puck’s party yesterday and you kept saying you didn’t want to go home, so I brought you here.” Kurt clarified. He turned around, heading upstairs, but Blaine called him.

“Hey, Kurt.” jumped out of bed and went to him. “Thanks.”

“It’s okay.” Kurt replied kind of annoyed. Blaine frowned, really confused. Had he done something wrong?

Kurt, who looked absent, turned around and went upstairs. Blaine followed him and grabbed his arm from behind.

“What was that?” he asked, worried. Kurt came loose. Blaine raised an eyebrow, looking for an answer. Kurt hesitated and looked at him straight in the eyes, as if he was waiting for something. Blaine tried hard to think what had happened the night before, but he didn’t remember anything.

“I’m just tired.”  Replied sharply, going into the kitchen and leaving a very confused Blaine standing like a frozen statue in the entrance.

Blaine left Kurt's house as fast as he could.

Kurt looked like he was uncomfortable with his presence and the last thing he wanted was to make him feel that way.

Blaine obviously knew that something had happened, but he didn’t know what exactly and now that he had had a fight with all his "friends", Kurt was the only person important to him at school.

Well, there was the other person. Blaine smiled to himself and took his phone to text, but what he found instead was a huge not welcomed surprise.

“Oh no.” he whispered to himself as he read the last messages. “No, no, please no. Fuck,”

He threw his phone away, trying to forget about everything for at least two minutes and clear his head, but then it buzzed.

INCOMING TEXT:

I think we should talk.

Great. Exactly what I needed. Blaine thought

OUTGOING TEXT:

I don’t want to talk about it.

INCOMING TEXT:

I do want to talk.

OUTGOING TEXT:

Well it takes two to tango, so we’re not talking about it.

I was drunk and I didn’t know what I was saying. That’s all.

INCOMING TEXT:

They say people are most honest when they don’t know what they’re saying.

OUTGOING TEXT:

Well, I guess they are wrong. I say many stupid things when I drink.

INCOMING TEXT:

Okay.

Kurt threw his phone away, landing on his bed. But then, something made click on his brain.

Maybe that’s it. He thought taking his phone again in his hands.

INCOMING TEXT:

You are afraid, aren’t you?

OUTGOING:

What?

INCOMING TEXT:

Of falling in love.

OUTGOING TEXT:

I have no idea what are you talking about.

INCOMING TEXT:

You are afraid of falling in love.

OUTGOING TEXT :

I am not...

INCOMING TEXT:

Falling in love with someone that could be from your same gender or maybe not. Someone that makes you question your everything, but at the same time makes you feel like no one has ever made you feel before and you don’t want that to stop. That scares you, right? That you don’t want it to stop. That your happiness depends on someone. That you have feelings for someone.

And you know what? We are young and we have time to figure things out, but there’s no need to hide from the truth.

Blaine’s heart speed rose.

He didn’t know how he felt anymore. He had been thinking about Kurt for weeks now.

He had been watching him between and during classes and while they were working on their French assignment and asking himself if he was really straight. He smiled when Kurt smiled. He laughed when Kurt laughed. He was happy when Kurt was happy.

That was really depending on someone, right? Was he falling in love? With Kurt? Or maybe with that stranger? He didn’t really know because he simply had never been in love before. He had never felt butterflies in his stomach when he saw Rachel. She was more like a best friend to him, but he never really felt love.

This has to stop. Blaine thought. I’m not falling in love. I am not. I am straight and my happiness doesn’t depend on anyone but me.

OUTGOING TEXT:

I think we should stop talking.

INCOMING TEXT:

Oh, nice. So that’s it? That’s how you solve your problems? Running away from them and hiding like a coward? Maybe you are not who I thought you were. Maybe you are not really worth it.

Kurt turned off his phone, not giving time to get a reply from the other person. He lay down on his bed and turned the lights off.

The night was cold and he could feel the wind get to his bones, but he was far too tired to get up and close the window. He grabbed his sheets and he covered his whole body, even his head.

He closed his eyes, trying really hard to make everything go away. Trying to make the feelings and the hurt in his heart go away. How he wished he could.

Not too far away from his house, Blaine was doing the same thing.

He watched the branches of the tree near his bedroom hit the windows while he lay on his bed. It was a rhythmic sound and Blaine was almost hypnotized.

Hundreds of questions that couldn’t be answered hit him over and over again.

Who am I? Am I a coward? Am I in love? Have I done the right thing? Am I really worthless?

He looked away and covered himself with his bed sheets, as if he tried to protect himself from all the thoughts and questions invading him. 

They both cried themselves to sleep that night. They cried for everything that could be and probably wouldn’t be. They cried because they didn’t want everything to end. They cried because they felt dead, empty, meaningless and above all, alone. Because they were both too afraid to admit they were in love.

They cried because nothing and everything made sense at the same time for the first time.