Fandom/Pairing ; "Glee"/Klaine (Kurt Hummel & Blaine Anderson)
Rating ; T (for language)
Summary ; What happened in "Blame it on the Alcohol", when Kurt brought Blaine back to his house after Rachel's party. Fluff, basically (& drunken banter). Klaine 3 R/R :D
A/N ; I just had to do this. When Burt walked into Kurt's room and Blaine was in his fucking bed… I had a major fangirl moment of squealing – my Klaine-shipping heart was about to burst :D I mean: HE SLEPT IN KURT'S BED, PEOPLE. And Ryan Murphy expects us to believe that nothing at all happened between them?
God. For such an average-sized guy, Blaine was fucking heavy.
Kurt was trying his best to get his intoxicated – highly intoxicated – friend up the stairs. It had been obvious to him, by the look of how he'd acted at the party, that Blaine was not fit to drive himself home. So, he had taken it upon himself and brought him back to his house. Blaine could sleep off the alcohol in his room. If the situation were different – i.e.: If Blaine wasn't drunk as hell – Kurt would probably be freaking out about having his crush sleep in his bed. As it was, though, he didn't feel nervous because nothing was going to happen; Blaine had beer breath.
"Whure arrre we… goin?" His words slurred together, and his voice was thick.
Kurt sighed, heaving him down the hall to his bedroom door. "We're going to my room, and you're going to sleep." He whispered, pushing open the door and dragging Blaine inside.
As the door closed, Blaine hiccupped and laughed, "So, like –," Hiccup. "Why amm I in youuur roooom?"
Kurt led him over to his bed, where he lay down, and replied, "You're in my room because you got incredibly wasted at Rachel's house and I decided to be responsible and make sure you didn't do another stupid thing."
Blaine glanced up at him from his place on the bed. His eyes were unfocused and hazy. "Thanks." Hiccup. "I… fucked myself uppp –," Hiccup. "– huh?"
There was a pause, before Kurt nodded, "Yes. You did. But it's okay, because –,"
"Oh god –," Blaine sat up, his hand covering his mouth, "I feel sick."
"Don't you fucking dare puke on my sheets." Kurt hurried over to help him stand and rushed him into the bathroom.
As soon as Blaine realized where they were, he knelt down and vomited into the toilet. Kurt didn't know what he should do – he didn't want to leave him – so he simply reached out and rubbed Blaine's back soothingly.
"You, uh… You okay?"
He retched and spat, trying to get all the bile out of his mouth. Taking several shaky breaths, he nodded. "Shit – that tastes fucking awful." Cough. "Ugh." He sat up, leaning back against the wall and panting. When he reached up to wipe off the puke around his neck with his sleeve, Kurt stopped him.
"Don't. You'll ruin your shirt. Hold on one second." He stood up and moved over to the sink. Picking up a washcloth, he ran it under warm water – and filled a cup with cool water – then returned to sit down beside his friend.
"Here, just –," He dabbed at Blaine's chin and mouth, gently, with the washcloth, and Blaine smiled. "What?"
He shook his head, drunkenly, "Nothing. Just… you playing mother."
Kurt put down the washcloth and lifted the cup of water to Blaine's lips, "Drink this."
He drank slowly but surely, until the cup was empty, and sighed. "I feel like a fucking moron."
"For turning into Drunkzilla or for kissing Rachel?"
"Both." He closed his eyes, "Mostly the first one, though."
Kurt smoothed Blaine's hair and shrugged, "You're not a moron – you're wasted and you need rest, okay? Come on." He stood up and offered his hand to pull Blaine up with him. He was still shaky on his feet, so Kurt put an arm around his waist and guided him out of the bathroom. When they reached his bed, he set him down gently, laughing to himself as Blaine buried his face in one of Kurt's pillows. Blaine got under his comforter and looked up at him. For a moment, Kurt wasn't sure what to do.
"You're not going to, like… sleep on the floor, are you?" He gave Kurt a look. "It's your bed –," Cough. "– so sleep in it."
The only way this could be totally perfect is if he were sober. But, despite his thoughts, Kurt found himself climbing under the covers next to Blaine. He tried to stay on his side of the bed, but since there really wasn't a lot of space, they were pretty close to one another.
Blaine obviously noticed his un-ease, and questioned, "What's wrong?"
Kurt shook his head, "It's nothing, I've… just… I've never had a boy in the same bed as me…"
His eyebrows furrowed as he murmured, "You have –," He broke off to burp into his hand, "– sorry – nothing to worry about, Kuuuurt." He grinned stupidly and giggled, scooting closer to his wary bedmate. Kurt raised a confused eyebrow, just as Blaine put an arm around him. "Does this make you nervous?"
"No." Kurt lied, closing his eyes.
"Well, does it… excite you?" Blaine was so, so drunk and Kurt knew that he wouldn't remember any of this by morning.
"Blaine – stop, okay? You're very intoxicated and you need to stop."
But before he could say anything more, he felt the boy move closer and all of a sudden, their lips were touching. Kurt felt conflicted, because a) The boy of his dreams was kissing him, but b) He was under the influence of alcohol, so he wasn't thinking straight.
Listening to his better judgment, he pushed Blaine away gently, shaking his head. "This isn't right."
"Why the fuck not?"
He sighed. "Because I don't want to have sex with you when you're drunk." Blaine opened his mouth to protest, but Kurt quieted him. "Go to sleep, Blaine. You're gonna have the worst hangover in the morning."
At these words, Blaine nodded and smiled, "Thanks – for helping me."
Kurt shrugged, "No problem. Now get some rest, alright?"
"Alright." Came his soft reply, as he rolled over pulled the covers up to his shoulders.
As Kurt closed his eyes, he could hear Blaine humming "Teenage Dream" to himself, faintly.