The sun burned through the windows, and Kurt squinted and blinked hard when he tried to open his eyes. He turned over, away from the window and looked around the room. The double bed only half full and clothes scattered over the chair. He lifted his body up onto his elbows and sighed hard. Thoughts of the night before ran through his mind and he realised he had a lot to sort out. But first things first, coffee.
He pushed himself over to the side of the bed, swung his legs to the floor and sat upwards. He rubbed his head, the hangover suddenly hitting him. Shouldn’t have had that fifth tequila shot.

He edged himself out of bed and headed for the kitchen.
He walked into the kitchen, oblivious to anything apart from how good the kettle looked right now. He flicked the kettle switch, took out a mug and prepared it for his coffee. He leant over the counter, fingertips pressed into his temples, eyes closed. The kettle flick popping back snapped him out of his trance and he stood up sharply, regretting it straight away. His head pounded and he shakily picked up the kettle, putting it back down and breathing deeply before trying again. He was half way picking it up, when a hand settled on top of his and took the kettle out of his grasp, pouring the water into the mug before settling it back on the stand. He watched as his coffee was stirred for him, milk added just the way he liked it and then he was alone again. His eyes dropped heavily once more, but he forced them open, carefully picked up his mug and started towards the sofa. He placed the mug on an awaiting placemat and slumped down onto the sofa, curling into the corner and letting his eyes drop fully. The TV blared and he lifted his arms over his head in the hopes that it’d block the light and sound out. With a soft click from next to him, the TV light stopped flashing, and silence rang the room. The warmth from his coffee heated the side of his face and he turned over, curling his knees up to his chest and he pressed his cheek, flushed onto the sofa. He felt the pressure rise from the sofa, and a blanket was placed over his shoulders. A few moments later the door clicked.

Kurt woke a few hours later. The coffee gone from the placemat, and sunlight threatening to sneak through the closed curtains. The TV remained switched off, but the weight was back on the other end of the sofa. He lifted his head and looked into the other boy’s eyes.

“Hi.” He licked his lips, unsure of their situation.

“Hey.” He received a smile back.
He grinned at the sight and stretched his arms out and then sighing back into his previous position.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“About 4 hours. It’s 2pm.”

He stretched again, a shiver running up his spine as he did so. He shook it off and shrunk back into the side of the sofa. Blaine curled his feet underneath him, automatically shifting slightly further towards the other end of the sofa. Kurt swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure what he wanted. One part of him was screaming to go cuddle up with Blaine, to let them kiss and let all of the problems disappear, just for now. He just wanted someone to hold him. But the other side of him was shouting to leave the room. To go make a coffee, get dressed and go to see Rachel. To drive to Lima, to go anywhere but here. He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, waking himself up a little more.

“How did I get home?”

Blaine rest his coffee cup onto the table and licked his lips.

“Rachel called you a cab and she put you to bed. I stayed at theirs until this morning to bring the car home.”

“Oh. I can- I remember nothing.”

Blaine laughed lightly and looked at Kurt. Tongue poking slightly between his lips, just like when he concentrates. Blaine figured he’s clearly trying to remember as much as he can from the night before.

“Nothing?”

“Dancing.” Kurt recalled. “Lots of dancing.”

“Yeah. You danced for hours.” Blaine looked down, still smiling at the thought of watching Kurt dance around the floor; all eyes on him as he let the music take over him.

“With you?” Kurt pondered. He remembered distinctly dancing with someone.

“Uh, no. We, we didn’t dance last night.” This was more painful that he thought it’d be. “You danced with Rachel for a while. Rachel, Mercedes, Nick and Jeff,” Kurt smiled. “And Nathan Hudson.”

“Hudson.” Kurt repeated.

“Yeah, he’s Finn’s cousin.”

Blaine stood up and stretched his arms upwards, lengthening his body out until it clicked in all the right places. He slummed back into a standing position.

“Did you want a coffee?”

“No, no. I’m going to go see Rachel.”

Blaine nodded. The air between them still seemed tense, he didn’t want to invite himself along or stop Kurt from going altogether. Kurt showered and got dressed, grabbed his phone and keys and left without another word. Blaine watched him shut the front door and then turned to his phone.

He tapped out a message.

“Kurt knows he’s Finn’s cousin. He’s on his way to yours now. Please talk to him.”

A few moments later he received one back.

“I will. Finn’s suspicious but I’ll send him out. You need to tell him, Blaine. You can’t hide behind this forever. Oh by the way, I think I left my scarf on your table. – Rach.”

Blaine read the message twice, sighed and wrote back one final message.

“It’s here. I’ll bring it over tomorrow.”

Rachel scoffed at the empty response but put her phone down without another attempt.

“Finn, Kurt’s coming over to help clean up. Why don’t you go watch the game with Puckerman?”

Finn looked up from the sofa, hopeful.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Rachel grinned her usual over-enthusiastic smile at him, and he returned it, jumping out of his seat and grabbing his keys. He pressed a kiss to her lips.

“I’ll be back later. Love you Rach.”

“Love you too.” She watched him leave the house and then picked up a bag full of empty cans from the floor. She knelt down lower and began cleaning.

A while later, three familiar knocks on the door took her out of her trance of singing and cleaning.

“It’s open!”

Kurt walked through the door, clicking it shut. He walked towards the lounge where Rachel’s unmistakeable voice rang from.

“My god. It stinks of vodka and tequila in here.”

Rachel smiled at him and closed some of the distance between them.

“I blame you for that, Hummel.” She winked and continued cleaning.

The smell made his stomach turn and he crinkled his nose.

“So I remember.”

“Ah, so you remember something then.” she teased.

“I wasn’t that drunk.” He sniped. They both broke into laughter.

“Okay, okay. Sure, whatever you say.”

“Need a hand with those?” Kurt took some of the empty bottles from her and dumped them into the bin just outside the patio doors.

“So what exactly do you remember then?” Rachel yelled from the next room.

“I remember dancing.” Kurt walked into the same room and sat on the stool by the counter. “Lots of dancing. Blaine said-” His voice cracked slightly. He coughed to cover it up, but Rachel noticed. “Blaine said I danced with you and Mercedes a lot. Oh and Nick and Jeff. I didn’t even realise they were here if I’m honest.”

Rachel smiled sympathetically but Kurt continued talking.
“Oh and Finn’s cousin...Nathan?”

Rachel nodded. "He’s right. Me you and Mercedes ran that floor for a good hour or so.” She winked again and her smile broke into laughing. “Nathan too. He’s a good guy.”

“Finn’s cousin, right?” He double checked. He wasn't sure why but he thought he would have heard about him if he was actually Finn's cousin. They were stepbrothers after all.

“Yeah. He moved here for college, Finn had never met him before which I guess is why no one ever mentioned him to you, even after Burt and Carole got married. But he’s a really good guy.”

Kurt nodded and Rachel sat in the chair opposite him. Her grin drooped into a sad smile and she placed her hand over his on the counter.

“Do you need to talk, about yesterday? We didn’t really finish.”

Kurt shook his head and removed his hand from under hers.

“No, no. I mean, things aren’t the same. But he’s still himself sometimes.”

“When he’s not drinking, you mean?”

“Yeah. That’s about the only time, I think.”

“Have you thought why, maybe?”

Kurt narrowed his eyes.

“What?”

“Things just might be more complicated than they seem, that’s all.”

“You spoke to him.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And I think you two need to talk.”

“We have talked, Rachel.” The venom in his voice was undeniable. Rachel retracted in her seat.

“Not properly. Not when he’s sober.”

“And that’s my fault?”

“I’m not saying that.”

“Is it his fault then?”

“Kurt, I just think you two need to talk. There’s a lot up in the air here. I don’t want to get involved.”

“You are involved. You apparently know him better than I do, so please, explain.”

“Kurt, you’re being irrational.”

He stood up, and turned for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Rachel, I came here to get away from Blaine. You’re another version of him right now.”

“I’m just trying to get you to see reason, Kurt.”

“Heard that one before.”

The door slammed and he was gone.

Kurt walked down the driveway, keys spinning in his fingers. Anger pulsed through him. Who was Rachel to give him relationship advice? What did Blaine tell her?!
He couldn't go home. That much was obvious. He started the engine and backed out of the drive, taking a left, he followed the signs out of town.