Despite years of maturity and drinking experiments, Blaine still isn’t fantastic at holding his liquor.  Santana’s little get together last night (her, Blaine, Kurt, whiskey, and Coke) and his resulting hangover is strong proof of that.  The insults Santana made – the ones Blaine barely remembers now – from the night before is also added evidence.

(He’s honestly surprised Kurt didn’t get as drunk as he and Santana did.  Getting home would’ve been a miracle if Kurt had, though Blaine supposes it’s better than waking up to Santana teasing him even more if he and Kurt had stayed over for a night.)

Blaine drags himself down the stairs and follows the familiar smell of coffee into what he hopes is the kitchen, squinting at every bit of light touching his eyes and trying not to jostle his head too much.  The pounding of his brain and the grogginess of sleep has prevented him from checking the time of day, though he’s guessing it isn’t noon yet.  Kurt would’ve kicked him out of bed by then.

“Good morning, drunkie,” he hears Kurt greet, teasing, upon entering the kitchen.  Even if Blaine’s really hungover right now he can still hear the smile behind Kurt’s voice.  He only makes a gruff noise, not necessarily a reply, but enough to let Kurt know Blaine heard him.

“Over here, sweetie,” Kurt says softly then, and Blaine feels warm fingers lacing through his own, dragging him carefully to what Blaine is sure is the small breakfast table they own.  Blaine sits down gingerly, still trying not to move his head much and keeping his eyes semi-open.  When he hears something being dragged towards him, Blaine opens his eyes to see a mug of coffee on the table.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, taking the coffee and bringing it to his lips.  It’s not as hot as he’d like it, but it helps quite a bit.  If anything, the warm liquid flows comforts his dry throat and churning stomach.

“If I had known you were as hammered as you are, I would’ve made the coffee later so it would still be hot when you woke up,” Kurt says quietly.  As he does, Blaine can feel him moving around to sit back down in his seat.

Bringing his lips away from his mug, Blaine mutters, “S’okay.  ‘S still good.”  Taking another gulp of coffee, he sets the mug down and says, “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Blaine,” Kurt points out.

He can almost feel Kurt rolling his eyes at him, but it doesn’t deter Blaine.  He smiles, opening his eyes a little more before deciding against it (ouch, bright light) and just faces towards where he’s pretty sure Kurt is, giving a quick smile.  “Thanks anyway,” he insists.

When he feels soft lips pressing gently against his (wow, Blaine’s so out of it – he didn’t even feel Kurt moving towards him, Kurt’s that fast), Blaine smiles again.  He’s still hungover, but the kiss isn’t unwelcome, and it does heighten his senses some.  Kurt’s kisses still do that him:  take his breath away, flare sparks in his veins, make his toes curl, all of it.

Sometimes Blaine wonders if things like that will ever stop.  The way Kurt kisses make Blaine feel like he can fly, the easy give and take of their relationship now, the comfort of knowing someone else knows Blaine better than Blaine does himself.  But he doesn’t mind if it never does.

“Mmm,” Kurt hums against Blaine’s lips after a long moment.  Nothing went farther than the press of lips against lips, but it still makes Blaine whine a little.  “You still taste like alcohol beneath all that cold coffee.”

Despite himself – and his hangover – Blaine chuckles, ducking his head before actually opening his eyes and looking at Kurt properly.  His head still throbs, and his stomach’s starting to growl now, but it doesn’t distract Blaine from catching the small grin on Kurt’s face.

Even after all this time, Blaine still counts every smile Kurt’s given him, cherishes each and every one.

(Yes, Blaine realizes then, he really won’t mind if this quiet type of honeymoon romance never goes away.) 

“Love you,” he mumbles tiredly, flashing an equally tired smile.

“I love you too, dummy,” Kurt replies, grinning even wider.