Kurt pulled Blaine's bottom lip into his mouth, scrapping his teeth over the sensitive flesh and making Blaine gasp. He released his lip and began tracing the edge of his teeth before sliding it alongside Blaine's, who began sucking it greedily. Kurt moaned, shifting until he was straddling Blaine's thighs. One hand came up to card in the back of Blaine's gelled down curls and Kurt tugged, forcing Blaine's head back and making him whimper. He began tracing random designs with the tip of his tongue against the roof of Blaine's mouth while grinding down on his lap.

The moment Blaine felt Kurt's hard cock pressing against his hip, the bubble of happiness he had surrounded himself in when Kurt kissed him burst, leaving the cold reality. Kurt was simply vulnerable and had attached himself to Blaine because of that. He would regret everything when he regained his senses and Blaine wasn't about to throw away his amazing job over a bad case of hormones. He twisted his head to the side, away from Kurt's lips, which then began trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down his jaw to his throat.

"Kurt," Blaine gasped as he sucked a bit of skin into his mouth. Kurt hummed, causing Blaine to shiver, his hands clenching on Kurt's thighs. (Oh god, when did his hands get there, they shouldn't be there, REMOVE THEM NOW!) He dropped his hands to the couch, away from Kurt's legs. "Kurt, I, oh god, I need you to, fuck, to stop doing that, please." The last word ended in a whinge as Kurt ground down while pulling his head back further.

"Hm, why?" His lips trailed up Blaine's jaw, sucking his earlobe into his mouth. "I want you." His breath was hot against his ear, Kurt's voice breathy and sweet. He kissed his way back to Blaine's mouth, stroking his tongue against Blaine's as his hands trailed down his shoulder, clutching at the fabric of his shirt as Blaine surrendered to the feeling.

He was drowning, he was sure. The feel of Kurt's body pressed against his, the curiously sweet taste as his tongue teased Blaine's, the heady scent of Kurt surrounding him and he breathed deep, trying not to fall too hard. It wasn't until he tasted the tang of salt that he once again pulled back, pushing lightly on Kurt's chest.

"Kurt, no," Blaine said, managing to make his voice stronger and steady despite the arousal coursing through him.

Kurt finally pulled back, breathing heavily. "What's wrong?"

"We can't, we can't do this."

"Oh, I think we can," Kurt smirked, rolling his hips down. Blaine let out a whinge but grabbed Kurt's hips, stilling him.

"No, we can't. You just told me a story that left you sad and, and, and vulnerable and I won't take advantage of you in that state."

"What state? Blaine, I'm not vulnerable, I-" Kurt huffed out a breath, running his hands down Blaine's chest before flicking his eyes up. "I want you. I've wanted you for awhile."

Blaine shook his head, easily lifting Kurt off his lap and setting him on the couch before standing. "No, Kurt, it doesn't work that way." He held up his hand when Kurt opened his mouth to protest. "I'm not saying you don't feel whatever you feel for me and, god, I want you too, but I don't want to do this. Not this way. I mean, you're my employer! No, I don't work in an office or anything, but I still would never do.. that with someone I worked with. You say you're not vulnerable right now, but you just told me about Jordan," Kurt jolted slightly at the name, biting his lip and looking away, "and you opened yourself up to me like you haven't before. I don't know- I just-" His head throbbed worse than ever and he sighed in defeat. "I can't do this, Kurt. I'm sorry."

Without another word, Blaine grabbed his keys as he slid on his shoes, hurrying from the flat with a small click as the door closed behind him.

Kurt sat on the couch for a long time, calming his rapidly beating heart and trying to quell the overwhelming tide of emotions. He finally pulled himself together and headed to bed, falling into a restless sleep.

Blaine walked quickly back to his apartment, anger thrumming through his veins and making his head hurt worse. Throwing his keys down, he stripped as he walked to his room, too tired and achy to bother throwing his clothes in his hamper before collapsing on top of his sheets as his fever burned.

888

The next morning, Kurt woke up feeling like he had an emotional hangover. His head hurt and his stomach twisted in knots. He blinked back tears as he thought about what had happened with Blaine. Forcing himself to sit up, he trudged to the shower, going through his morning routine on autopilot. Dressing took more energy than he wanted to give and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he didn't care what clothes he grabbed. Black slacks and a white shirt with a dark red tie, his hair less than carefully done in his usual up do. He knew that by the end of the day it would be falling in his face but he tossed his hairspray down with a sigh and went back to his room, grabbing his wallet, keys and phone. He pressed the power button, lighting up the screen and showing he had a missed text from Blaine.

His heart speed up and he cursed the reaction, sliding his thumb across the bottom to unlock his phone and tapping the screen to access the message:

Can'tr come iin sickll sory

He frowned; was he really sick or did he not want to see Kurt? Growling at his phone, he wrote out a quick okay in reply and went to Sophie's room to get her ready. If Blaine was worried about his job before, he had a real reason to now.

The day dragged, despite being kept busy with meetings and having Sophie in the office. Once they finally made it back to the apartment, Finn, Jen, Angie and Jessica where already there, ready to celebrate Sophie's birthday. She would have a full on party that weekend with her friends but Kurt had insisted on a small get together on her actual birthday and he was regretting it now. His stomach was still in knots, his phone heavy in his pocket. Blaine hadn't texted or called at all, hadn't even replied to Kurt's text that morning. He forced it from his mind, concentrating on singing Happy Birthday to his daughter and smiling for the camera.

Though it was a celebration, misery hung over them like a black cloud, shaped like the one who was missing, who would never get to meet her daughter or sing Happy Birthday loudly and off-key. After the stress of the night before and the whole day making him a ball of nerves, Kurt was only too happy to fall into bed that night, fitfully sleeping, dreams of Jordan and the look on her face before they had pushed him from the room, haunting him as it hadn't in over a year.

888

Thursday and Friday passed in a similar fashion, restless nights followed by a text in the morning from Blaine saying he was still sick and then a long day at the office. It took a little work to readjust to Sophie being in the office full time but he managed to get through the rest of the week with few problems. When Saturday came around and Blaine texted to say he wouldn't be able to make it to the party, Kurt had had enough.

After the party guests left, he asked Jen if she would watch Sophie for a bit and went to Blaine's flat after pulling the address from his contacts. The doorman stopped him, demanding he wait until they checked with Blaine before sending him up. He knocked and waited until Blaine opened the door. His hair was matted to his head with sweat, his hazel eyes bloodshot and his nose red. "Come in," he rasped, holding the door open and letting Kurt move past. He shuffled back to his couch, collapsing on it as soon as he was close enough.

"Oh god, you're really sick." He leaned forward, pressing his wrist to Blaine's cheek. "Blaine, you're burning up! How long have you been like this?"

Blaine shrugged as much as he could from his position curled up on the couch. "I started feeling bad on Tuesday and woke up in the middle of the night vomiting."

Kurt flinched at the mention of Tuesday but asked, "Have you be eating?"

Blaine shrugged again. "Kinda. Toast and crackers and that kind of thing."

Kurt tutted. "Where's your bathroom?" Blaine's hand flopped backwards, pointing vaguely. Rolling his eyes, Kurt went down the hall, pleased to find the door was open. Digging around for a moment, he located the washcloths and puts one under cold water from the tap. Wringing it out, he carried it back to the living room and draped it over Blaine's forehead. Blaine groaned in appreciation. "Kitchen?"

Once again, Blaine pointed vaguely behind him, though it gave Kurt more direction than the hand flopping. In the pristine white room, Kurt searched through the cabinets and let out a huff of annoyance. "Do you not carry ANY food?" he called back.

Blaine gave a dry chuckle that turned into a dry cough. Grabbing a glass from one of the cabinets, Kurt filled it with water from the pitcher in the fridge and took it to Blaine. Helping him sit up, he tilted the cup so that Blaine could drink. Through his thin summer layers and Blaine sweat soaked pyjamas, Kurt could feel the heat rolling off of Blaine. "Did you take anything for the fever?" he asked once Blaine pushed the cup away.

Blaine laid his head on Kurt's shoulder. "Didn't have anything and can't stay standing long enough to go to the drug store." His eyelids drooped as he began falling asleep again. Kurt carefully laid him back down, pulling the sheet up around his shoulders and scooping the washcloth from where it had fallen on the floor and placed the cooler side on Blaine's forehead.

"Mm, s'nice," he mumbled. Kurt smiled down at him walking to the front door, pulling his phone out as he went. Keeping one foot lodged in the doorway to keep it from close, he stepped into the hall, dialing the apothecary he used. He wasn't fond of manmade medicines, choosing instead to use natural herbs. The owner had become a friend over the years and was more than happy to send over the herbs needed to help lower fevers and ease coughs.

Next was a deli that Rachel had raved had the best chicken noodle soup, "And I would know, Kurt, I'm Jewish!" He had ordered from them a couple of times before and was pleased to learn that they delivered to Blaine's building. He picked up a set of keys off the floor and fit each into the lock until he found the one that worked on Blaine's door. He checked his watch; a few more minutes before either delivery would arrive. He took the time to actually look around Blaine's apartment.

It was about the same size as his apartment, from what he could tell, with a piano in one corner, violin case under it, guitar case beside that and sheet music everywhere. Clothes were scattered about and there were a few cups sitting on the coffee table, along with a plate full of crumbs. Grabbing the dishes, Kurt took them to the sink, rinsing them out and leaving them there. Gathering all of the papers on the coffee table, he spotted one with Kurt's Song written across the top. He frowned, reading over the notes, all carefully written by Blaine's hand. He sat it in the pile with the rest of the papers and put them on the piano.

Next, he searched for the garbage bags and gathered all the trash he could find before stuffing Blaine's keys in his pocket and locking the door behind him. There was a trash chute at the end of the hall that he tossed the bag into before using a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer that he carried with him to clean his hands as he stepped on the lift and pressed the button for the lobby.

Once inside, Kurt shot off a quick text to Jen asking if they could keep Sophie overnight, promising to tell her the whole story later. He received her confirmation as the lift opened and he stepped out. Chatting idly with the doorman, he paid for the food and herbs when they arrived before tipping his hat to the man and going back up to Blaine's flat. He was still sprawled out on the couch where Kurt had left him, the rag half falling on one eye.

Pausing to flip and fix it, Kurt returned to the kitchen and set about following the directions the chemist had sent along with the herbs after putting two of the three containers of soup in the fridge for later. He poured half of a container in a bowl and poured the rest in another. Once everything was done, he took it into the living room and roused Blaine.

"S'gon on?" he mumbled, sitting up with help from Kurt.

"Food and medicine."

"Don't want medicine," Blaine groused, scrunching his nose adorably.

"Sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of your raging fever," Kurt chirped brightly. He made Blaine take the herbs first before handing him the bowl of soup, which Blaine looked as suspiciously. "Cheer up, it's chicken noodle soup."

"Ooh!" He brought the bowl up to his lips, draining half of the broth in one go. Kurt forced himself to stop watching Blaine's neck as he swallowed, choosing instead to begin eating his own soup.

"You're going to get sick if you stick around," Blaine pointed out, spooning up some noodles.

Kurt shrugged. "I had my tongue down your throat, I'm pretty sure I'm more likely to get sick from that than breathing the same air as you," he joked and then winced when Blaine flinched. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine, we need to talk about it."

Neither spoke, though, slowly eating their soup. When they were done, Kurt took their bowls to the kitchen and rinsed them out. Back in the living room, Blaine had moved to the other end of the couch and was sitting facing the opposite end, his legs folded in front of him. Kurt sat when he motioned to the couch, mimicking Blaine's position. They were silent, each one lost in his own thoughts.

"I thought you were avoiding me," Kurt finally whispered, staring at his hands.

He could see Blaine's curls bouncing out of the corner of his eye. "No, of course not. Like I said, we need to talk about... it."

Kurt sighed. "Look, you were, you were right. I've thought about it a lot and, and I was vulnerable that night and I shouldn't have kissed you. First and foremost, you are my employee and it's not proper workplace etiquette. I'm sorry and I hope you'll forgive me."

Blaine waved his apology away. "You weren't the only one in the wrong; I kissed you back." They lapsed back into silence for a moment before Blaine spoke again. "How about we both agree that it was a mistake and promise to never do it again?"

Kurt nodded in agreement before frowning as he noticed Blaine's turning slightly green. "Blaine, are you-"

And then there was the sickening sound of vomit hitting the floor.

888

Blaine thought about that promise two weeks later as he lay on the floor in Kurt's living room, surrounded by pictures and papers, with Kurt straddling his hips as he leaned over Blaine as their lips met over and over. Even as he told himself to stop, tried to remind himself that they're not supposed to be doing this, AGAIN, his hands tugged Kurt's shirt loose from his pants, eager to feel bare skin.

This is not what he expected to happen when Kurt started texting him two hours ago.

It had been an early night for him since Jen picked up Sophie after she got off work. They and Finn were going to the aquarium the following day, the last Saturday Finn had off before school started, and so they were keeping Sophie overnight. Blaine had just settled at his piano after eating supper when his phone buzzed.

I miss her so much

Blaine had to double check who had sent the message; it was Kurt all right.

What's wrong?

I miss Jordan

Blaine let out a huff of frustration; this was going down a dangerous road.

What are you doing he asked.

Being melancholy, I guess. Or nostalgic or something.

Blaine sighed, not knowing what to say. He could offer some comfort but he honestly had no idea what Kurt had gone through and didn't feel right about offering the measly advice of time heals all wounds or some such bollocks. Before he could think of something, he got another text from Kurt: Never mind, ignore me

That settled it.

Where are you?

Home
Alone
Forever alone
Urgh, ignore me

Blaine was already out the door and on the lift, going down. The walk took no more than a couple of minutes and then he was at Kurt's flat, unlocking the door with the spare key. Kurt was sitting in the middle of the floor, pictures of him and Jordan lying around him, tears running down his face. He swiped at them angrily.

"You shouldn't have come."

He shrugged. "You needed me."

Kurt laughed bitterly. "Just like her," he mumbled, shaking his head. "I'm so stupid."

Blaine carefully sat next to him, leaving plenty of distance in case Kurt didn't want him near but close enough that he could touch Kurt if he needed to offer a bit of physical comfort. "You're not stupid, Kurt, why would you even think that?"

Kurt shook his head, avoiding looking at Blaine, his eyes trained on the pictures in front of him. He began telling stories about Jordan, sometimes long complicated tales and sometimes just little quirks. His posture slowly became less stiff as he allowed some of the pain to bleed off, his voice hitching and bubbling in turns. He shifted until he was sitting next to Blaine and put his head on his shoulder, seeking the only comfort Blaine could give: a steady arm around his back and a shoulder to cry on.

Finally he looked up, meaning to thank Blaine for listening, but Blaine turned his head at the same time. Their faces were right next to each other, lips centimetres apart. Their eyes met, watching, waiting for a sign. Kurt told himself to pull away but his lips didn't listen, searching for Blaine's, his breath stuttering as they met.

It was nothing like last time. The spark was still there but this time it was a slow heat, their lips moving together slowly, getting used to each other as they explored. Kurt brought his hand up, resting it lightly on Blaine's chest as his tongue tentatively darted out, flicking along Blaine's top lip before sliding alongside Blaine's. His heart was pounding in his ears as Blaine sucked on his tongue briefly before releasing it. He followed it back into Kurt's mouth, tracing along lips and teeth. He began to pull back and Kurt chased his lips, silencing any protests as he bore Blaine down to the floor, cupping his head so it wouldn't hit the hardwood too roughly.

And now Blaine was remembering that conversation from when he was sick and as much as his body wanted this (oh god, did it; his cock was painfully hard), he knew he had to stop it. Once again, Kurt had opened himself up to Blaine, had allowed his vulnerabilities to show, and Blaine was taking advantage of that.

"K-Ku- oh fuck- Kurt, you need to, nggh, stop. We promised!"

Kurt pulled away so quickly that he stumbled, scooting back across the floor, safe on the other side of the pictures. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry, Blaine," he moaned, burying his face in his arms. He started mumbling to himself, repeating something that sounded suspiciously like "stupid" repeated over and over.

Blaine sat up, still breathing heavily. "Kurt." he wouldn't look at him, just squeezed his arms tighter and shook his head. "Kurt, please, look at me. I don't think you're stupid, I swear. We just..." He sighed. "Things get a little intense between us sometimes. We'll work on it." He gently pried Kurt's hands from his face. Thumbing over the tear tracks, he smiled. "See, that's better."

Kurt rolled his eyes fondly.

888

The days grew shorter and colder and no more incidents occurred. Autumn changed to winter and snow began falling. Christmas came around, bringing snow and cheer and an irritated Kurt. Finn claimed it was just because he was an atheist but Kurt told him privately it was just because of all of the commercialism and false cheer that came with the holiday. Even still, his flat was tastefully decorated with minimal Christmas and the tree in the corner done up with classic blue and silver ornaments and white faerie lights. When Blaine asked about the decorations and tree, Kurt smiled softly before replying, "Decorating was always Jordan's favourite part."

As it had been for the past few years, Blaine's parents went on a cruise for Christmas and Cooper and his family went to his wife's side of the family to visit, leaving Blaine alone. Normally he would just order takeaway and watch a bunch of old black and whites but when Kurt found out, he wouldn't hear of it.

"How can your family just leave you out? On Christmas!" he raged, pacing the kitchen three days before the holiday as they drank their morning coffee.

Blaine shrugged. "I've never really cared much. My dad would always ask about school and my grades and blah blah blah and mum would ask me when I was going to find a nice boy to settle down with. I was actually pretty glad when they started going on the cruise; helped me keep my sanity."

"As much as I dislike the holiday, I still don't think anyone should be left alone on it. You'll come over for dinner."

"Kurt, no-"

"Blaine, please just come over. I know Carole and Delia would love to see you again and my dad wants to talk football with you. They already think of you as family and you..." Kurt crossed his arms defensively over his chest and leaned back against the far counter. "You know how I feel about you. Even if now's not the right time, I still care about you a lot." He shrugged a little helplessly. "Plus, it's my first year hosting the dinner in the new apartment. Could always use the moral support if things go wrong."

Blaine sighed, crossing over and taking Kurt into his arms. "I'm sorry, of course I'll come." He kissed Kurt's forehead before stepping back. "Now get going, you're going to be late."

Kurt laughed, draining his mug and rinsing it out. "And you don't even have to bother with Christmas presents, that's always nice!"

Blaine blushed. "I already bought presents for everyone. I was just going to leave them under the tree before I left."

Kurt let out a snort as he patted his pockets, making sure he had everything. "Do you really think Carole would have let you get away with not seeing her?" He winked and left, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

True to his word, both Carole and Delia gave glad cries when he showed up, enveloping him in hugs and kissing his cheeks. Dinner was loud, everyone talking excitedly and it brought Blaine back to hot summer days sitting on the beach, the tang of salt water and tanning oil permeating the air.

Once everyone had eaten their fill and then some (Kurt was an amazing cook), they settled around the living room to open presents. Burt handed Sophie one first, letting her tear at it while placing other gifts in front of everyone else.

Blaine blinked in surprise as he was handed a thin square package, his hands dipping slightly at the weight. "What's this?"

Carole grinned, tearing at the wrapping on one package. "It's for you. Open it!"

Bewildered, he began picking at the paper, missing the looks the others exchanged with Kurt. Inside were two records, the Led Zepplin one he had looked at in North Carolina and a Beatles one, different from the one he had bought that now sat, unused, on his music shelf at home. "Oh."

"Do you like it? We saw how much you enjoyed playing the record at the beach house," Carole said, smiling proudly.

He didn't want the look on her face to go away, so he smiled back, not having the heart to tell her that he didn't even own a record player. "Oh, yes, thank you, both of you, they're wonderful." He shot a plaintive look at Kurt, who winked.

Blaine watched as the others opened their presents as more and more record shaped packages were handed to him, giving him fifteen total. He could feel his smile becoming more and more forced until finally there were no more brightly wrapped gifts under the tree and the living room had become a mass graveyard of paper. Finn started cleaning up as Blaine helped Sophie open one of her new toys.

"Oh, it looks like we missed a couple of gifts," Burt exclaimed, coming from around the back of the tree. He set a heavy box on Blaine's lap, smirking.

Blaine looked around to see everyone looking at him, all smiles, and he swallowed down his tears. It was a little too much, being a part of this family when his parents were so aloof. It wasn't that they didn't love him; it was just that they didn't always know how to show it. He slowly unwrapped it as Kurt leaned in. "This one is from me."

Try as he might, tears pricked his eyes as he opened the box to reveal a record player. He blinked rapidly, attempting to hold them in by mere force of will, but they fell, dampening his cheeks. He looked at Kurt. "Thank you. Thank all of you, this-" He shook his head. "This means so much to me."

"Well, it's not over yet," Delia chuckled, going behind the tree and pulling out a guitar case. She sat it down next to him before bending to kiss his head. "I've no use for this and you seemed to enjoy it at the house, so I thought I would give it to you."

"Thank you, Aunt Delia," he whispered, standing to wrap his arms around the woman and hug her tightly. He turned to Kurt, pulling him up and hugging him even tighter. "Thank you, Kurt, for everything." He pressed a quick kiss against the slight scruff on Kurt's jaw before releasing him and wiping his eyes. He hugged Jen and Carole and did the strange man half-hug with Burt and Finn.

The day was filled with music as Blaine plugged in his new-old record player and put one of the Christmas records he had received. They laughed and sang along and just enjoyed each other's company and by the time everyone left for the night, Blaine was exhausted, his cheeks aching from smiling so much. He finished cleaning up the kitchen while Kurt put Sophie to bed, her eyes heavy after the excitement of the day. He was sorting through his newly acquired records when Kurt came back in.

"Did you have a good time, then?"

Blaine looked up, a smile playing on the corner of his lips. "An amazing time, thank you so much."

Kurt shrugged. "It's no big deal, I'm just glad you came." He moved up next to him, looking through the albums. Once he had the idea to buy Blaine the record player, he had shared it with his family, knowing they would help him get some more records.

"Where did you find this?" Blaine gestured to the record player.

"Remember that second hand bookstore near the beach house? While you were looking at the records, I walked around and saw it and later that night, remember how I disappeared for awhile? Well, I went to the store and bought that and a couple of records. That's why Finn asked you all those questions about your musical taste a few weeks ago; he was getting information so that everyone could buy you some records."

Kurt reached out, picking on of the records from the bunch: Dinah Shore and Buddy Clark. Holding it up for approval, he set it on the player and placed the needle into the groove. Baby, It's Cold Outside began playing and Blaine chuckled softly.

I really can't stay

Kurt began singing along and, smirking, Blaine joined in, bumping their shoulders together.

But baby, it's cold outside

They moved around the flat, singing to each other, mindful to keep their voices low so as to not wake Sophie. It ended with Kurt leaning against the doorway of the kitchen, Blaine pressed close as his chest heaved.

"Mistletoe," Kurt murmured breathlessly. Blaine hummed questioningly and Kurt pointed above their heads to where Finn had pinned a sprig of the stuff earlier in the day.

Swallowing thickly, Blaine looked back at Kurt, his face tilted just so as he blinked slowly. "I swear I didn't plan this," Kurt whispered.

Blaine nodded and steeled his resolve. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against Kurt's.

Every time was like the first time as sparks flew and one light touch wasn't enough. Kurt's hand came up to bury itself in the short hairs at the back of Blaine's head, nails digging into his scalp as he greedily pressed himself against Blaine. His senses went into overload, drunk off the taste of Kurt and the feel of that lithe body against his. His arms went around Kurt's waist, holding him.

They broke apart, Blaine physically stepping away from Kurt as they tried to regain their breath.

"That was a bad idea," Kurt groaned, slamming the back of his head against the wall and closing his eyes.

Blaine nodded, even though he knew Kurt couldn't see. "I'm going to, going to go." He moved to turn off the record player, packing all of the records and other gifts up in the box. "I'll, uh, get the guitar Monday, if that's okay."

"All right."

888

A week later, Kurt was fretting with his hair as someone knocked on his front door. He heard Blaine answer the door followed by Finn laughing loudly. It was New Years Eve and Jen insisted that he go out with them and when Blaine volunteered to watch Sophie, he knew he was caught.

He tried to dissuade Blaine, telling him that he should go out and have fun instead but Blaine waved him off. "I don't like crowds much. It's one thing to perform in front of them, but I hate being in them," he confessed. They arranged for Blaine to stay overnight so he wouldn't have to walk the streets at whatever time Kurt got home.

So here he was, fussing with his hair and clothes until Blaine rapped on the door. "Kurt, they're here," he called.

"I'm ready," Kurt replied, opening the bathroom door. Blaine stared at him, his mouth slightly open. "What, do I have something on my face?" he turned around, taking in the outfit meant to be his costume. Brunet hair threaded through with silver, lightly applied black eye liner, tight black shirt, tighter silver pants and his favourite black boots, all topped off with silver glitter spray.

Blaine swallowed a couple of times, trying to get some moisture in his suddenly dry mouth. "No, no, you look, uh, amazing. What are you supposed to be, exactly?"

"Snow falling at night," Kurt laughed, preening under Blaine's gaze.

"Uh, well, you better get going, snowflake. Finn pre-gamed apparently and he's itching to be gone."

Kurt groaned. "I'll kill him." He smoothed his hands over his clothes one last time before following Blaine into the living room.

It took them a couple of minutes to get Finn out the door and then onto the lift. They headed to one of Jen's coworkers places and spent the night drinking and dancing and by eleven, Kurt was so very drunk. He had lost sight of his brother and sister in law a long time ago but couldn't find it in himself to care. He found the room where the coats where and got his, sliding it on as he stumbled to the door. He shot off a quick text to Jen, letting her know he had left. At least that's what he hoped he said; his fingers hadn't wanted to obey him and it might have just been nonsense.

He made his way through the streets, too impatient to wait for a cab (as if it were easy to get one on new year's anyway), yelling cheerfully whenever a group hailed him. It didn't take long to figure out where he was at and he began heading home. A few times people stopped him on the street, insisting he take a shot with them or shoving a beer in his hands. It was almost midnight by the time he got home, shutting the door a little too loudly behind. He dropped his keys... somewhere near the table and stumbled into the living room to find Blaine sitting up from where he had been sleeping on the couch, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"Kurt?"

"Blaine!" Kurt fell into his lap and wrapping his arms around Blaine's neck. "Hi Blaine!"

"Hi Kurt, how was the party?"

Kurt shrugged. "It was okay." He leaned in close, trailing his lips up Blaine's jaw to his ear. "I would have much rather have stayed here with you."

"Kur-"

He moved back and kissed him, cutting him off before he could protest. Blaine allowed it for a moment but when it became obvious that Kurt didn't plan on stopping, he cupped his face and gently pushed him back. "No, Kurt. We're not doing this again."

"Come on, Blaine. I want you." Kurt rolled his hips as his voice dropped lower. "And I can tell you want me too. Just give in." He grabbed one of Blaine's hands, kissing the fingertips.

It wasn't until Kurt leaned in and kissed him again that Blaine realized he was losing his fight with his self control. The long months of growing sexual tension mixed with the intoxicating reminders of the other kisses they had shared was crumbling his will and he knew that if he didn't move away from Kurt now, it would ruin everything. He lifted Kurt off his lap and quickly stood, putting distance between them.

"No, Kurt, I'm not going to do this. I, I can't."

"Can't what, Blaine?" Kurt hissed, suddenly angry, balling his fist as he glared up at Blaine. "Can't kiss me or want me or want to be with me? You keep sending me all these fucking crazy signals and it's like I don't ever know where I stand with you! You either want me or you don't, it's that fucking easy."

Blaine ran his hands through his hair, emotions battling across his face until it settled on blank. "No, Kurt, it's really not. There's so much more than my feelings for you or yours for me riding on this and it's like you can't see it. You think it's okay to keep using me whenever you're sad or vulnerable or, or drunk and it's not right, it's not fair to me or to you." He shook his head, sadness creeping into his features. "I'm sorry, I have to quit. I can't keep doing this."

Without another word, he pulled his keys out of his pocket and removed the spare key, placing it on the table in front of Kurt. He didn't say a word as he pulled his coat on and slipped into his shoes. The door closed quietly behind him and the sounds of cheering crowds drowned out Kurt's sobs as the ball dropped on Times Square.