“School’s out!” Blaine shouted into Kurt’s face as he opened the front door, his goofy grin widening even further when he saw who was there.

“Gah!” He launched himself onto Kurt, engulfing the taller boy in a firm hug.

“How was Nationals?” he asked as they broke apart, shutting the door as Kurt walked in to take his coat off and reply somberly.

“Well, school’s not out for McKinley yet which is unfortunate because-” and here Kurt paused for effect, blinking and exhaling before turning to look Blaine in the eye with his most unimpressed facial expression; “we lost. In truly spectacular fashion.”

Blaine was sympathetic but all he could think to do in the next few minutes was offer Kurt a drink which unexpectedly led to Kurt’s first drunken party and Blaine’s first-time babysitting him.

It was odd the effect that the alcohol had on Kurt over the next couple of hours; it seemed like he was just exhausted tonight over everything. He looked at everyone, but especially Blaine, like they were responsible. The drunker Kurt got, the more haughty and resentful he was when he observed the partygoers around him. Blaine realised he should have known how down Kurt was considering he was drinking in the first place. All year it had been Blaine that got trashed at parties while Kurt drove them both home. Tonight was different though. Kurt had lost the one thing he’d wanted more than anything; the thing he’d left the comfort and safety of Dalton for; the thing he’d been working toward for years. It seemed to be making him reckless. After Kurt’s next snide comment to a Senior Warbler and his barely-age appropriate girlfriend- Kurt’s helpful tip about her training bra showing through her shirt were hardly up to his usual standard- Blaine pulled his friend into the kitchen.

“Are you finally going to make a move, Blaine Warbler?” Kurt asked, laughing, as Blaine shut the door behind them.

“No, I’m- what?” Blaine stopped and stared at his friend, his original purpose in pulling him into the room lost in Kurt’s rhetorical but nonetheless strange question. Kurt was looking back at him with a new courage, some kind of challenge in his eyes.

“It would only be polite,” he continued casually, pouring extra vodka into his paper cup and looking to the side with that superior way he had. Blaine’s mind was racing. Of all the self-restraint Kurt had let go of tonight in his misery over nationals, Blaine would not have expected this admission to be part of it. Blaine never acknowledged that there was anything... extra between him and Kurt; even during the many times they’d spent together when Kurt had been emotionally exhausted or Blaine had been drunk. Kurt wasn’t normally one to mention anything either, especially those times that Blaine had been so obvious; staring at his neck while he spoke or smiling at things he said like it’d triggered a guilty thought. But Kurt was the drunken one tonight and he was talking like he never had before.

“It would be easier,” he started to say slowly, his voice low as it tended to get when he was relaxed. Or, apparently, intoxicated; “if you could just pretend that you were never attracted to me at all. Because it sucks, Blaine, it really sucks-” here Kurt put his hand heavily on Blaine’s shoulder and looked lovingly but firmly at his friend like there was still an icy anger underneath his newfound drunken easiness, “that you only want be about thirty percent of the time.”

Blaine was shell-shocked, staring back at Kurt like he’d just in the last few seconds learnt how to understand his language. Perhaps he had.

“That percentage isn’t entirely accurate,” was all Blaine could think to say finally, tilting his head at ‘entirely’ like the concession came at a physical cost.

“Fine. Twenty. It’s something though,” Kurt grumbled, taking his hand off Blaine to wag his finger sloppily at his friend before leaning back to rest his weight on the counter behind him.

Blaine watched as Kurt momentarily lost interest in him after that, or seemed to; looking down into his cup and stirring it absent-mindedly with his little finger. Blaine wanted Kurt’s attention though; he had questions. He’d start with just one though.

“How long have you felt like this?” Blaine willed Kurt to make eye contact with him, anxiously watching his drunken friend’s facial expressions. But Kurt looked at the ceiling, squinting his eyes in concentration.

“Valentines!” he said finally, triumphant, splashing his drink against the sides of his cup and onto his sleeves as he gestured happily with his arms; “I told you I like you and you never mentioned it again. In words,” he added slyly, blue eyes playful but not quite focussed as he leaned in toward Blaine conspiratorially.

Blaine realised, with Kurt so close, how used to the sight of Kurt’s face he was, how familiar his scent had become, how good it felt to be in such close proximity with him. With less than a foot between them as Kurt rested back on the counter, Blaine realised he had begun scrutinising everything about the boy in front of him, luckily while he was seemingly too drunk to notice. More importantly, Blaine understood that this was something he had really wanted to do for longer than he would let himself admit. Kurt closed his eyes briefly and Blaine watched the movements of his eyelashes. The paleness of his skin glowing under the kitchen’s fluorescent lights. The faint stubble coming through on his face and neck, especially noticeable along the line of his jaw. The red in Kurt’s cheeks denoting how drunk he was getting, now matched by Blaine’s own blushing. He wanted to reach out and touch these things he was only letting himself appreciate now for the first time. His fingers itched, wanting to place themselves on Kurt’s perfect face. But then Kurt’s expressive blue eyes were open again, appraising Blaine in confusion for a second before registering what was going on.

“What just happened?” Kurt murmured, shaking his head and trying to stand up straight. Blaine lost himself for a second, watching his friend as though in slow motion and wondering to himself if there was anything about him that he didn’t like. The occasional wonderings Kurt had apparently noticed in Blaine and mentioned tonight- the moments of identifying things about Kurt he could like or even love- had never before seemed to add up to anything significant. Until now.

“I have no idea,” Blaine responded finally. What had happened to wake him up after all this time? Or what had happened to make him think for so long that there wasn’t anything to be had here but friendship? He watched Kurt go to walk away and felt physically drawn to stop him, like they were tied together and- if separated- part of him would go with Kurt. More pressingly though; Kurt was wasted.

“Here,” Blaine offered, “Let’s get you to a bed.”

The two friends staggered haphazardly down a hallway until they arrived at an empty bedroom. Pushing the door open and switching on the light, Blaine walked Kurt over to the bed and sat him down, making sure he was steady enough that he wouldn’t pass out and slip down onto the floor while Blaine kneeled in front of him and took off his shoes. As Blaine undid his laces, Kurt fell backwards onto the bed and spoke again to the ceiling.

“We were talking before about something. What was it?”
Blaine smiled but didn’t answer. After all, he was still processing everything. And none of this would matter to Kurt in the morning. But the intoxicated boy was determined to finish their conversation.

“Oh, right. Stop flirting with me. Please. Don’t even talk to me. Don’t even look at me. Not unless you mean it.”
Kurt’s voice was stern but distant, like he would lose consciousness at any moment.

“I think I do mean it,” Blaine thought aloud, not bothering to censor himself because he was certain Kurt must have passed out already, or would soon.

Kurt must have taken a little while to understand but as Blaine finished removing his shoes, he sat bolt-upright. Looking down at him, Kurt’s eyes were wide with shock.

“What did you say?” he asked bluntly. Blaine looked away.

“Kurt, we can talk about this another time. When you’re sober.”

“Right,” irritation was clear even in Kurt’s impossibly soft voice, “Because you’re the only one that gets to be stupid when you’re drunk.”

“Kurt!” Blaine’s response betrayed his exasperation with Kurt’s typical selfish lashing-out and restored their friendship’s usual straightforward tone. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

Blaine stood up and moved to leave but Kurt’s hands found their way around his, gripping him tight and pulling him back so that they were still facing each other.

“Just tell me what you meant,” Kurt pleaded, his cat-like eyes expanding to become orbs in his stricken face. Blaine had no excuse- he was sober and if he got this wrong, more than one heart was there for the breaking- but he found himself reaching out to touch Kurt, running his thumb along his cheek until he reached his chin and let his hand rest there. Kurt closed his eyes as it happened, seeming to savour the gesture as if it would never happen again. This was too much for Blaine; he wanted-no, needed- Kurt to know that he cared just as much that this wasn’t an anomaly in their friendship. They’d both waited months for this- yes, for different reasons, but with the same intention of not ruining anything they had. Blaine leaned down to kiss Kurt slowly but carefully so that Kurt would know that it wasn’t a whim or alcohol or pity for today’s disappointment that led him to do this. But then Kurt pushed his face up to continue the kiss; caught up in everything Blaine was promising. Blaine placed his hand softly behind Kurt’s head, stroking his hair slightly as he did, and put his other hand onto Kurt’s shoulder to lightly push him back onto the bed and end the kiss. Kurt fell back easily so that he was lying comfortably with his eyes closed.

“Tomorrow”, Blaine promised both Kurt and himself, looking down at the beautiful boy.

Almost as if in response, though he didn’t seem to realise Blaine was still there; Kurt whispered to himself, halfway asleep and with eyes still closed; “I did win something today.”

Blaine smiled.

"You really did."